Down Comes the Night
by kabensi
Summary: Quinn and Rachel reunite after life has taken them in very different directions. These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by Vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. Co-written with Vondrunkaton.
1. Come a Little Bit Closer

**Come a Little Bit Closer**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

**Happy reading!**

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Quinn hasn't taken the trip to New York City from New Haven since February, but the train ride seems to pass by with ease, maybe because she spends most of it focused on her sketchbook, drafting out ideas for fantasy projects. It's something she used to do regularly and hasn't done all that often, but she's been a little more inspired the last few days.

Maybe the fact that she wants to have something to show Rachel, something that isn't the property of Mrs. Dashwood, has a little to do with it.

When the train pulls into Grand Central Station, she tucks her book and pencils into her messenger bag and weaves her way through the main terminal, toward the exit. It's after nine, so it's not as packed as it would be during the peak hours, but there are still plenty of people around. She remembers how many times she made this same trip during her freshman year of college, back when she and Rachel were dead set on maxing out their MetroNorth passes, and is compelled to hang a right at the end of the corridor, which puts her right in front of the small coffee shop she stopped at on several of her trips, years before.

It's September, which means they're serving apple cider and will be through the winter months. She orders one to go, then resumes her original path until she's outside. It's only six or so blocks to the theater, so she decides to walk and take in the city around her. By the time she reaches the performance space, the cider has cooled considerably and the door to the lobby is locked.

Rachel doesn't normally bring her phone with her into rehearsal, but she's been looking forward to meeting Quinn all week (anticipating is really a better word), so she wedges it in her pocket just in case something comes up. She doesn't know why, but she feels like their plans might fall through, and she wants to be available in case Quinn changes them. She does her best to concentrate on her blocking and inflection instead of wondering when she'll feel it buzz against her hip. She's in the middle of yelling "don't decorate your sister's car with condoms!" when it finally happens, and she's professional enough to finish the scene before she fishes it out.

Quinn is downstairs, locked out. She's not cancelling. She's here.

It's been a while, and Rachel feels the same kind of exhilaration she experiences just before she's about to go on stage. They'd managed to cultivate a fairly solid friendship - once upon a time - but now things might be different. She's just not sure what to expect from Quinn, given how their online interactions have gone the past week. She's kind of been all over the place. They both have.

It's maybe a minute before Quinn receives a response that says, "Be there in a minute," only to have the lobby door swing open only moments later. It all happens so quickly, she literally looks from reading the message up to Rachel's waiting form in the lobby doorway.

"Hey," she says. "I... stopped to get you this," Quinn steps through the threshold into the building. "It's from that little place in Grand Central. But it... I think it's cold from the walk over." She glances down at the paper cup in her hand. Showing up with an offering of lukewarm cider seems like a crappy way to kick off a reunion like this. "Sorry."

Rachel isn't sure whether to focus on the cup in Quinn's hand or on Quinn's face. This is the Quinn Rachel knew in college. Well, mostly. She's definitely older, more - Rachel searches for a word and settles mentally on _seasoned_. It's a good look for Quinn, she decides, and she smiles as if she can warm up the cider just by being happy that Quinn brought it for her.

"Thank you," she says, taking the cup. She leans against the door so that Quinn has enough room to come through. "I'm glad you decided to come."

"I had to show up, eventually, if you're going to have a set to work with," Quinn replies. "Not that you couldn't pull off _Steel Magnolias in a Vacuum_ if you had to." There's an awkward moment of silence after she speaks and then it's like she waits too long to say something else and now she's just staring at the other woman before she forces her eyes to look at the surrounding lobby so she doesn't feel like a complete creep.

Rachel sips her cider. "Did you know that Brittany asked me once if space sounds like a giant vacuum cleaner all of the time? Thankfully Artie overheard her and went into this scientific explanation about black holes. I have no idea if what he told her was true, but it sounded very official." Her cider is nearly cold, but the fact that Quinn even thought to bring it for her more than makes up for it. It dawns on her that she's drinking alone, as she leads Quinn through the hallway backstage. "Didn't you get anything for yourself?"

"How do you even remember anything from that far back?" Quinn laughs and shakes her head. "All I ever did was try to forget stupid high school." She trails behind Rachel, surveying the space around them, particularly when they approach the black box. To Rachel's question, she just shakes her head. "Didn't want anything."

The theater is small and simple, but so is Quinn's initial design layout. She can already see where certain changes can be made and she's quick to dig her sketchbook out of her bag so she can work out the ideas that are coming to her.

The way Quinn draws and makes notes is quick and purposeful, yet somehow extremely calculated, and Rachel lets herself get caught up in watching. Kelsey, the director and a friend of Quinn's, meets them and starts talking with Quinn about the size of the stage door and where the loading dock is located. Rachel can tell that Quinn is listening as she examines the space. It's good to see her so focused. It's one of the things Rachel misses about her.

While the cast works on blocking and line readings, Quinn sits three rows back and continues to draw and redraw her design concepts, merging her previous ideas with the ones she's been inspired with tonight. During Rachel's moments, though, she finds herself watching what's happening on stage, even when it's just the same five lines of a scene happening over and over as the actors learn their way around the space. Even in these overtly technical moments, Rachel Berry is captivating, as ever.

There's a moment when Rachel looks over at her and Quinn can't help the stupid smile that spreads across her face, but then she forces herself to look back down at her sketchpad and traces her pencil over lines that already exist on the page.

Rachel has always been able to lose herself in a role and playing M'Lynn is no different, but when she happens to lose focus for the briefest of moments and glaces at Quinn, it only takes one smile from Quinn Fabray to make her stumble over her lines. It's not a big deal to anyone else, but it makes Rachel set her jaw with determination, even if she can't wait to talk to Quinn again afterwards. It doesn't happen again; choking on the lines, at least. She can't stop herself from stealing quite a few more glances into the risers before it's over.

While Kelsey delivers her final notes of the evening to the cast, Quinn heads backstage into the small green room area so she can call Feldman, the kid who lives across the street from her, just to make sure he was able to walk and feed Merman on time. Feldman reminds her a lot of Puck, which is probably why she was motivated to hire him in the first place. He hit on her the first couple of times they talked, but she finally shut him down when she revealed she has a daughter older that his youngest sister. She knows he's all talk (just like Puck) and she also he's genuinely willing to help (also just like Puck).

By the time she's finished her phone call, cast members are milling through the green room, collecting their bags and jackets.

Rachel finds Quinn in the green room. Suddenly, she's worried that maybe Quinn doesn't want to go out after all. She fidgets in her bag and then slings it over her shoulder while Quinn pockets her phone.

"Are you... Did you still want to go out? You know, to catch up?"

"I was just checking on my dog," Quinn explains. "And I definitely still want to catch up. I kind of hate that it's been this long, really. I should have..." She doesn't really know what she could have done differently, because they've just fallen into the rhythm of their own lives. "You said something about a coffee place?"

Rachel beams. "It's my favorite place in New York, but that's probably just because I go there so frequently." There's a silence as they walk, and Rachel can't quite tell if it's a comfortable one. "It kind of surprises me that you have a dog."

Quinn opens the door to the street and holds it for Rachel as she passes through. "Why?" she laughs. "Do I not seem like a dog person?"

"Please don't punch me for saying this, but you really don't seem like much of an animal person all at. Or, at least, you didn't." Rachel glances at her. "I know it's been a while, and we've both had things going on, but you're still Quinn. And I really did miss you."

"I don't know that I've ever punched anyone in my life," Quinn says, adjusting her bag on her shoulder as they move down the sidewalk together. "And maybe I'm not a superstar vegan like you, but I like animals just fine." She catches Rachel's eye line and adds, "I missed you, too."

"I feel like Santana Lopez might have something different to say about the punching," Rachel says, but it's mostly just to cover the warmth she feels in her cheeks, even though it's a chilly night. "And I only meant that I never really pictured you cuddling up with anything at night." It dawns on Rachel too late what she's implied, and she adds, "With a pet. You know what I mean. The coffee place isn't too much farther."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "I never punched Santana. Pulled her hair, sure. Slapped her, yeah." She sighs. "And you that time, too." It's still a memory that makes her cringe, slapping Rachel across the face in the bathroom, so she takes the opportunity for the subject change. "I don't cuddle up to him. He sleeps in a dog bed. But he's good company."

Rachel chews her lip. "Well, that makes more sense," she says and, really, it applies to either situation.

"Do you have any? Pets?" Quinn asks. It's simple small talk, but she also kind of really wants to know.

"God, I'm gone so much that it would be totally irresponsible of me to have something at home depending on me to take care of it. I love animals, and I think that we have an obligation to treat them fairly, but pets aren't really for me right now. Maybe someday." It sounds terribly selfish, now that she's said it out loud, but it's the truth. Thankfully, they're in front of the coffee shop and Rachel can stop talking about what a horrible pet owner she makes. "Here we are," she tells Quinn and pulls the door open, waiting for Quinn to go through first.

As Quinn enters the place, she smiles to herself. She was expecting some kind of trendy coffee bar, something hip to commemorate Rachel's "unique New York"-ness. Instead, she's standing in a small diner, one that looks like it's been around for at least fifty years, even if it's changed ownership at least once a decade. There's not really a theme, just a lot of brown vinyl and beige formica surrounded by wood paneled walls. The design is actually kind of terrible, but there's a comfort to the place.

It's cozy.

She likes it.

Rachel shrugs out of her jacket and drapes it over one arm. "Is this okay? I thought you might be hungry. Or if you aren't, they have good coffee. I read here sometimes when I need a break from work."

It's one of those seat-yourself places, especially this time of night when there aren't many customers, and Rachel's booth is open. She leads Quinn to it and slides in.

Quinn isn't particularly hungry, but the waitress passes by with an order of french toast for the lone patron at the table across from them and suddenly Quinn can't remember the last time she even had french toast and then smell of it is incredibly tempting.

"When did you discover this?" she asks, settling into the seat across from Rachel. "You didn't come here when I used to visit." It's not even a question. She still remembers Rachel's regular haunts from freshman year of college and the list was primarily vegan eateries and all of Broadway.

"It's been a while." Rachel tries to think of exactly how long it's been. "I think I started coming here around the time I did the NYADA alumni workshops. I was dating a guy I met doing community theatre just after I graduated, and we came here a lot. It didn't work out with him, but I like it here, so I just..." She smiles a little shyly at Quinn, who is looking at Rachel intently. "I like it here."

"And it all comes back to one of your many boyfriends," Quinn teases. During Rachel's first year at NYADA, she seemed to have a new male lead almost every week and it wasn't uncommon for her to take Quinn to whatever hot spots she'd been introduced to during her newfound popularity.

This time, Rachel knows she's blushing, and she's sure Quinn can tell. "I'll have you know that, as a freshman, I was very dedicated to my studies." It's thin, at best, and she adds, "I can't help it that I love New York."

"No one's doubting that." Quinn picks up one of the menus that's leaning against the wall. It's kind of sticky, but then that's all part of the charm of the place. "Dating anyone now?" she asks casually, as she pries the pages apart to study the selection of breakfast foods.

The question surprises her, but if they're going to catch up, romantic involvement is part of that. "I'm taking a break from all of that right now and trying to really focus on getting my career where it needs to be." And then, because it needs to be asked, "Are you?"

"I haven't really been..." Quinn shakes her head. "It's been a while, actually." She's trying to read Rachel's reaction, because she knows it probably sounds pathetic. In college, she had a handful of girlfriends, two that were serious, one that was her former professor. "Since graduation I just..." She shrugs and flips the menu pages. "Merman's a good companion and he's a cheap date, so I'm sticking with him, for now."

"There's nothing wrong with taking some time off from dating, Quinn," Rachel says. "It's not imperative that we're always with someone all of the time. There are other important things in life. Merman seems like a wonderful dog."

"He's kind of a pain in the ass," Quinn says, snapping the menu shut. "But he's loyal. Does anyone actually work here or-" She looks up to see the waitress standing at the edge of the table. "Oh. I'll have the french toast? And, uh... coffee?"

Rachel smiles at the waitress and says, "I would like green tea with lemon and do you have the vegetable soup or tomato today?" When the waitress tells her it's the tomato, her smile widens. "Tomato, please," she says and then turns to Quinn as the waitress goes to put in their order. "Wait. Have you really not dated anyone since _college_?"

Quinn opens her mouth to shoot back some kind of witty response, but she doesn't have one. She really hasn't dated anyone since then and it's not something she's proud of. "I... No. But I dated a professor while I was _in_ college. Points for style?"

"Quinn, I seriously doubt anyone but you actually keeps track of how in style it is to push social conformity issues. Besides, you know very well that things like age or gender or race don't matter when it comes to love. It's just... a little surprising that it's been that long. I would imagine that it gets old saying no after a while if you've decided that you're not interested in dating." Rachel tucks her hair behind her ear. "I'm not trying to... well, I hope it's not invasive."

"It's not that I'm not interested in dating... it's just been complicated..." Quinn's enthusiasm over french toast has since dissipated and she stirs the glass of water in front of her with a straw. "You're a little invasive, but... that's just how you are. And it's kind of nice to have someone actually ask."

This is one of those rare moments when Rachel doesn't actually know what to say. This is Quinn Fabray. If she hasn't dated in years, it's because she hasn't wanted to, not because nobody ever asked. "Complicated?" Rachel echoes, trying to figure out how to tell Quinn what she's thinking without sounding even more invasive.

"It's all personal crap," Quinn offers. "I'm... not the easiest person to date. And I don't really get out much, not with other people, anyway. I'll probably end up like Coach Sylvester, except instead of living alone in a house of trophies, I'll be buried under terrible country crafts and dog toys."

"I think you're selling yourself short, Quinn," Rachel tells her as the waitress sets out french toast for Quinn and soup for Rachel. "I mean, aside from your tendency to stencil every single flat surface you come in contact with and the fact that you spend seemingly every waking hour on Facebook, what could possibly be so difficult about dating you? I would be willing to bet that with the right person, it might actually even be nice."

"I don't sleep, I run a business making and selling things I loathe, I still have stretchmarks, and I spend more time with my dog than with other people." Quinn pokes at her french toast with her fork. "I'm a trainwreck and that's just the tip of the iceberg. Oh, and I mix metaphors."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Stop trying to come up with reasons you're undateable. You don't have to be that person, Quinn. Not anymore. Anyone would be lucky to have you, and when you're ready to put yourself out there again, it won't be as hard as you're making it out to be."

"Making out. Also something I haven't done since college." Quinn quickly takes a bite of french toast and doesn't look up from her plate.

"It's been a while for me too, you know," Rachel says softly, sliding her foot forward slightly until it rests against Quinn's. She means it supportively. She's always been a tactile person, and talking about serious things has never seemed right to her without some type of physical contact as reinforcement.

Quinn's eyes shut, if only for a moment, when Rachel's foot touches hers. It's just a nudge and it's not like there's any direct contact, but it still ripples through her. "Yeah, but you... it's easy for you if you want someone... you're voluntarily taking time out to focus on your career. Anyway, isn't the stage your mistress? Or... master? Or boyfriend or whatever?"

Rachel laughs. "You make it sound like I could wink at the next random stranger we see and I'd be going home with someone tonight. It's just not true. Of the two of us, you'd fit that description more than I would." Rachel can't be sure but she thought Quinn might have flinched when their feet touched under the table, and she doesn't want to make Quinn uncomfortable, so she slides hers away. It drags gently against Quinn's for a moment and then she's safely out of Quinn's space again.

"I don't go home with strangers!" Quinn protests. She's aware that Rachel's moved away, but she's quick to shift her leg to regain the closeness. It's silly, really, but it's been so long since she's been around anyone she knows as well as she knows Rachel and she's desperate for the connection.

Rachel has officially lost interest in her tomato soup, and she barely even ate any. The moment she feels Quinn follow her movement, she's completely tuned in to what's happening right now, between them. She knows she didn't imagine Quinn's flinch now, and she takes the opportunity to really look at the girl sitting across from her. She feels an old feeling stir somewhere deep within her, and she grins. "Well, at least not since college, anyway."

"I knew every single girl I went home with, thank you." Quinn tries to keep her attention on her food, but it's useless. All she can think about is what's happening under the table. "And even then there were only three." She doesn't even know if Rachel's aware that Quinn's fully embraced her five point two Kinsey rating, but given what seems to be going on, maybe it's obvious.

"I'm not trying to imply anything negative, Quinn," Rachel says sliding her foot again, just slightly. It doesn't seem like it's unwanted, and there doesn't seem to be any harm in it. Then again, she does tend to overthink and analyze things sometimes, even now, but at the same time, she's enjoying the contact.

"So, what are you trying to imply?" Quinn asks, her voice light as she nudges back against Rachel. There's no more ignoring what's happening and directly addressing a situation is one of Quinn's stronger suits. "Because it seems like you brought me to your favorite night spot just to flirt with me."

Rachel sips her tea. "I had no pretenses at all by asking you to catch up tonight, and I would also like to remind you that it takes two people to flirt."

"You think I'm flirting with you?" Quinn pushes one eyebrow up as she watches Rachel. "What good would that do me? You're apparently married to your career."

"And you're married to your dog, so I guess it's completely harmless, since we're both in committed relationships," Rachel counters.

"We're not married, just living together," Quinn shoots back. "You wouldn't want to date me, anyway."

It's Rachel's turn to lift an eyebrow, which is s look she learned from Quinn. "Is that an offer?"

It's one thing to flirt, it's another to contemplate an actual dating scenario, especially given that this is the first time they've seen each other in years. "It's..." Quinn has no idea if Rachel is serious. So, she deflects. "It doesn't matter. You're not dating, right now." Her leg, however, continues to brush against Rachel's.

Because it isn't that she's opposed to the idea. There's an attraction between them and it almost feels like it's always been there, but the time was never right. Even now, sitting across the table from a woman she hasn't even spoken to since college, Quinn feels the magnetic pull of two people who both want the same thing.

It just isn't the best idea. Not the way her life is, right now.

That doesn't keep her eyes from being drawn to the way Rachel's sweater stretches across her chest.

Rachel isn't one hundred percent sure what it is exactly that's happening right now, but she knows that she likes the way Quinn is looking at her right now. It's almost dangerous, in a way. She also knows that she likes the way it feels to have Quinn Fabray touching her, even if it is just some light contact under the table. Imagine that, after all this time.

"I didn't say that I wouldn't date," Rachel says, and then adds in a low voice, "not if it was the right person."

"You think I'm the right person?" Quinn asks. "We barely know each other."

"You're putting words in my mouth." But still, the idea is kind of an intriguing one. An idea that Rachel hasn't really entertained before. Well, not with Quinn. At least not in in specific detail. And now Rachel can't seem to stop staring at Quinn'smouth for some reason.

"I'm not putting anything in your mouth," is Quinn's casual reply, but there's a smirk creeping at the corner of her lips. She picks up her cup of coffee and takes a sip. It's getting cold and she really has no interest in drinking it. but it's the best way for her to appear collected in the moment. Otherwise, she feels like she might be compelled to just leap across the table and push Rachel back against the vinyl booth and-

Well.

Now that's all she can think about.

So much for being collected.

If Quinn wants to play a game of sexual chicken, Rachel can't really think of a reason why she should be the one to back down. Instead of responding to Quinn verbally, she moves her foot up, brushing Quinn's ankle and rubbing back and forth a little. It's enough to be more than just casual contact, and she really wants to see where this unexpected little exchange is going. As an afterthought, she adds, "I know you well enough."

Normally, Quinn would snap back that no one really knows her, but if anyone ever actually did, it was Rachel. Even if that was a decade ago.

Her coffee cup clinks against the saucer.

"I'm..." She adjusts her footing as to encourage Rachel to continue with the movement below. "Trying to figure out if you're actually looking for a date or something a little more..." One night stand isn't right, because it feels like more than that. "In the moment."

Rachel thinks about this, really thinks, because as much fun as she's having, this is still Quinn, and Quinn still deserves someone who will be honest and sincere with her. "I'm not sure that I'm actually looking for anything, Quinn. I just know that this is- while it's not something that I ever expected- it's actually a little... I'm not exactly dying to run out the door right now."

"Yeah," Quinn nods. "I see that." She contemplates what's in front of her: Almost a full plate of french toast, a barely eaten bowl of soup, and Rachel Berry telling her that she's enjoying this... whatever it is. The meal is irrelevant. It's not why they came there. Rachel wanted to share something with her, something personal. They're supposed to be catching up. And now there's this idea being tossed around, along with a game of footsie under the table.

Quinn still has no idea if this is serious or not, so she relies on strategy, something still ingrained in her from her time on the Cheerios. She straightens up in her seat, pulling her feet back to her side, but before Rachel can react to the removal of contact, Quinn's standing up and scooting into the opposite side of the booth so she's next to Rachel, instead of across from her. She props an elbow up on the table and rests the side of her head against her hand as she asks, "So what _are_ you dying to do?"

Rachel's eyes are a little wider than normal because this situation is one that she never in a million years ever thought she'd be facing, but now that it's here, it's all she can do to just take it in. Quinn is sitting very close to her, incredibly still, and extremely intense. She has no real idea how to answer Quinn's question. She's not even sure if she wants this, but here Quinn is, apparently offering it to her. And Rachel is still wondering if this is even really happening.

"What do you want me to say?" Rachel's voice is barely there, which almost never happens.

It's been ages since Quinn's put a move on anyone, but she certainly still remembers how. Her hand, the one not holding up her head, drops under the formica tabletop and rests on Rachel's leg. "I want you," her fingers lightly stroke the fabric of Rachel's pants, "to answer my question."

If there were any doubt in Rachel's mind what it is that she wants, the way her breath is coming faster in response to Quinn's proximity is giving her a clue. "Quinn," she says quietly, but she doesn't really have anything to add.

She shifts slightly so that Quinn's hand is resting more solidly against her thigh, and she hopes that the look she's giving is sending the right signal. She likes this. She _really_ likes it.

"I'm still listening." Quinn's amused by Rachel's reaction and she's intent on keeping this up as long as she can. "Or maybe you want to get back to catching up? You can tell me what you've been doing for the last few years." Her fingertips catch on the inside seam of Rachel's pant leg, about midway up her thigh.

It's Rachel's turn to smirk. "You know, whatever it is you're doing isn't going to detract from the fact that you've been staring blatantly at my chest for the past ten minutes, at least."

"It's a good looking sweater," Quinn replies, letting her gaze drift to the area in question.

Rachel feigns innocence as she brings her fingers up to delicately trace over her own chest. "Oh, is it? I know you've always had a thing for my sweaters," she says, letting her fingers graze her chest and watching as Quinn's eyes follow.

"The argyle's always been better than the embroidered animals." Quinn's grip on Rachel's leg tightens before her hand inches higher. She forces her eyes back up to Rachel's face and leans closer. "But I guess you caught me checking you out. Though, to be totally honest, it's not the first time."

"You say that like you think I never noticed you watching me walk down the hallway at school or dance in glee club." She's sure to match Quinn's tone, even though the hand on her leg is making it more difficult to concentrate. She's also absolutely bluffing.

"You should have said something. We could have..." Could have what? There was no way anything would have happened back then. Quinn's hand is almost at the point where Rachel's leg intersects with her hip. If she were to shift more toward her inner thigh, things would be... interesting. "I guess what matters is what you're saying now. Did you want me to notice you?"

Rachel tries to get her breathing under control. There are a lot of things she wants right now. She wants to feel what Quinn's hair feels like in her fingers, what her mouth tastes like. She wants to feel Quinn's hand squeeze against her again. This is all happening so fast, and Quinn is so comfortable being in control, and Rachel just... for the first time in a long time, she wants someone.

"I want you," Rachel wets a dry lip, "to notice me now."

"You're kind of hard to miss." Quinn's fingers grip Rachel's leg. "I think we're done here. Your soup's cold and I'm about two seconds away from doing this." Her hand dips between Rachel's legs under the table. At the same time, she casually turns to smile at the waitress, who's standing back by the order counter, and signals for the check.

Rachel's eyes flutter for just a second and then she's gripping Quinn's wrist. The desire- the drive to feel what Quinn is doing- is unbelieveable, but they're in a public place, after all, and she's after that if she doesn't establish some parameters, she'll end up responding to Quinn in a way that might embarrass them both.

"Please just..." She doesn't even know what she wants to say, but she keeps her grip on Quinn's wrist.

The waitress barely looks at them when she sets the guest check on the table and mutters, "Thank you, come again."

Quinn slaps one hand over the ticket and works her hand out from Rachel's grasp, then extends it to help her out of the booth. "Just what?" she asks as she stands, still waiting for Rachel to take the offered assistance.

"Just, at least wait until we're out of the middle of a diner," Rachel says, letting Quinn pull her up. And just like that, they're holding hands.

The bill is paid and the tip Quinn leaves is at least half the price of the meal, but she can't be bothered to wait for change. She gets Rachel outside, but then only make it as far as the small alleyway between the diner and the building next to it, before she's pressing Rachel up against the brick wall. It's dark and probably dirty, but she hasn't felt this driven, this turned on, in a very long time.

"We're not in the middle of a diner, anymore." Quinn's still holding Rachel's hand and her other hand is gripping Rachel's hip.

Quinn's body feels amazing against hers, and all Rachel wants right now is to know what it feels like to kiss Quinn Fabray. She slides a trembling hand up and around to the back of Quinn's neck, pulling her closer. It's a chilly night, and Quinn's skin is cool beneath Rachel's fingers.

She's pressing against Rachel in all the right ways, and when she shifts, Rachel tries to stay grounded.

"I meant what I said about it being a while for me." Rachel's voice is nearly a whisper.

"Me too, I-" There's a sound from deeper in the alley and Quinn's quick to assess what it is, drawing her arm up, protectively, in front of Rachel. She can see a cat, but then it scurries past them and there's still something shuffling around back there. "Come on," she says, pulling Rachel off the wall. She shifts the weight of the bag on her shoulder and moves back toward the street.

"My apartment isn't far, but I have roommates," Rachel says, and then it dawns on her that she and Quinn Fabray are looking for a place to- well. It's actually an incredibly big turn on for her, if she's honest.

They're already a block up when Quinn says, "Shit, wait..." as she checks her back pocket, then rummages in her bag for a moment. "I think I dropped my MetroCard when I paid. Just... wait here." She squeezes Rachel's hand before dashing back in the direction of the diner.

She leans against the wall and does as Quinn says. She knows better than to pull her phone out of her pocket, so she just does her best to be patient.

It takes a couple minutes, but Quinn returns to Rachel as quickly as she can, crunching on a peppermint from the bowl next to the cash register. "Got it," she says, stepping up to Rachel and resuming their previous position, even though they're facing the street instead of ducked into an alley.

"Are you ready to admit that you wanted me in high school?" Rachel asks once Quinn is back in her space.

"You want to talk about high school or do you want to talk about right now?" Quinn's leg settles between Rachel's.

There's pressure in all the right places, and it's all Rachel can do to keep from moving her hips. "Do you even want to talk at all?" she manages. She's gripping Quinn's arms, doing her best to hold on. God, it's been so long, and she feels overwhelmed by everything that's happening.

"Not really." Quinn shakes her head and leans in closer, her lips lightly brushing Rachel's. "I've been able to smell how turned on you are since we were back at the diner."

"How could you possibly-" Rachel starts, but Quinn shifts again and Rachel's breath catches. Those lips she's been stealing glances at for the past half hour are so close. She can't help but move a little against Quinn's leg. "God."

"Are you saying you aren't? Because it sure seems like you are." Quinn brushes her lips against Rachel's again, then presses them together, kissing her with a hunger that's been building since she showed up at the theater. Or even before then.

Rachel grips more tightly as she kisses Quinn back. It seems like a dream - with Quinn solid and strong against her, pinning her to the wall, kissing her with an intensity that steals her breath. She is turned on, and the fact that Quinn can smell it is insane, and she likes it.

It's a little fast- they're supposed to be catching up, but after a certain point of Quinn Fabray's tongue licking at her lips, she gives in and opens her mouth. It isn't long after that that her hand finds it's way up Quinn's chest.

This certainly isn't how Quinn pictured her reunion with Rachel, though it's a welcome surprise. The way Rachel moves against her... it's incredible. She rocks forward, putting more pressure between Rachel's legs, and savors the taste of Rachel's mouth.

The extra pressure makes Rachel move more. There's hardly any space between them at all, and she slides her hands down and around, gripping Quinn's ass and encouraging her to rock harder against her.

Quinn's hands splay out and brace themselves on the wall, positioned on either side of Rachel's body. The grip on her ass encourages a groan that disappears into the kiss, then she shifts again, trying to get more movement out of Rachel.

"Quinn, this is... hardly the place." She wants Quinn right now, so much, and she needs privacy. A feeling of safety, somewhere more private than... on the street in front of an all-night laundry. She doesn't want Quinn to get the wrong idea, so she shifts once more and tightens her grip before whispering, "But I _do_ want you," against Quinn's ear.

Quinn has to slow herself down and it takes effort because it's been so long and this is _Rachel_, but she manages to still her body as she buries her face in Rachel's neck.

Except then she's met with the overpowering scent of Rachel's hair, the feeling of Rachel's chest heaving against her own, and the taste of Rachel's skin under her tongue.

She wants this. Now. And it's dangerous and careless and she has to shove herself off the wall, away from Rachel, to regain any control of herself.

"This is... I shouldn't have..." she mumbles, arms crossed over herself as she faces the street.

Rachel is confused at Quinn's abrupt manner, at first, and she tries to get some grip on reality as she leans against cold brick, buzzing with want all over. But of course any encounter with Quinn ends with Quinn shutting down for some reason or another, and Rachel is left with a hollow feeling that's probably something a lot like guilt.

Except that was years ago. She's lived on her own since she knew Quinn last and she's taken care of herself. At any rate, she's far too old to be swept into a bunch of mind games or struggles for power.

She pushes herself off the wall. "Look, if you don't want this, that's fine. We can just be done. We'll go home, and maybe I'll see you at the theatre. It's fine."

She's disappointed, but she knows Quinn well enough by now to know how this goes.

Quinn stares out at the passing yellow cabs, then looks down the street where she can see the Empire State Building. She should come out here more often. The city's so alive at night. It's one of the reasons why Rachel's always loved it, she knows that.

"Can we just... walk around for a while?" she asks, quietly. Her hands find their way into her pockets while she waits for a response

Rachel softens immediately. "Oh," she says simply, and then she's standing next to Quinn so that their arms are touching. She just wants Quinn to know that she's not alone in this world without pushing Quinn's already stretched boundaries. She hadn't thought that Quinn might actually want some companionship instead of just one night if meaningless sex. "Actually, I'd like that, Quinn."

Quinn sets a slow pace and moves along the sidewalk. She has to ignore what just happened moments before, or else she's going to end up obsessing over it.

"... The play seems like it's coming together well," she offers, as a distraction to both of them.

Rachel puts her hands in her coat pockets because she doesn't know what else to do with them. "Let's talk about something besides the play." She wants to know if the way she's feeling now is because of her loneliness or because there may actually be something between them. "Tell me about..." Rachel tries her best to find something that will let her know Quinn without prying and making her shut down even more. "How did you get your dog?"

Merman's actually a nice, safe topic and Quinn's thankful for the chance to talk about him. It'll keep her from thinking too much about Rachel's body pressed against her own.

"He's kind of a rescue, I guess." That's probably the best way to word it. "He... came with my house."

Rachel can feel her eyes widening. "He came with your house? Quinn, that's not... something that usually happens."

"The previous owner left him behind," Quinn explains. "At first, I planned to find him a home, but he was already about a year old and most people want puppies. Also, he chews on everything. Or did. He's grown out of it. A little. Anyway, I'd never lived alone in a whole house to myself before and it felt better having him there. So... I let him stay."

"That's... really sweet," Rachel says, and stuffs her hands deeper in her pockets. They're walking now, that slow pace that means there isn't really a destination, though Rachel knows in the back of her mind that she's leading them towards her apartment. "Sometimes I wish I could live in my own apartment, but in New York, it's not really practical."

"You could live outside the city." It's a bullshit suggestion and Quinn knows it. Rachel was born for this town. She looks down at her feet, stepping over a discarded playbill with Justin Beiber's face on it as she wonders how long it will be before people are doing the same with Rachel's face under the yellow and black header.

Rachel laughs, even though she knows Quinn is probably serious. "I didn't fight the way I did to get here so I could live in New Jersey."

They get another half a block before Quinn quietly says, "It'll happen. It has to." She hopes Rachel knows she isn't talking about apartments.

"It's not that I don't like teaching. I do. I just... I'm supposed to be on the stage."

Quinn tries to picture Rachel with one of her voice students, but all she can imagine is Rachel singing to provide "an example" and taking up the entire lesson time. "Do any of your students make you feel, like, sympathetic toward Mr. Schue?"

"My students live in New York City and take their careers very seriously. They're all amateur level, of course, but that doesn't mean they're not completely serious about being performers. I haven't ever had to teach a Noah Puckerman." Rachel steers them along, and when they get to the crosswalk, she pulls her hand out of her pockets and takes Quinn's hand to lead her without even thinking.

The moment Rachel takes her hand, Quinn's mind immediately returns to the scene from earlier: Touching under the table, leaving the diner in a rush, kissing, groping, and grinding against the face of the building. If she turns her head, just enough, she can still smell Rachel's shampoo against the night air.

"Rachel..." Her hand's still wrapped up in Rachel's and she can't really bring herself to pull it away. "I'm not..." A lot's happened since they were college freshman. "I'm not who I was... before."

"I'm not asking you to _be_ anything, Quinn. A lot has happened since college. I'm not the person I was either. I don't have any expectations at all." She smiles hesitantly, just to show Quinn that there isn't anything to worry about. It's not like she'll be asking Quinn to marry her tomorrow or anything.

It's almost like Rachel's reading her mind, in a way. Still, Quinn knows the best thing would be to drop Rachel's hand, to excuse herself for the evening and get on the next train back to New Haven. So why is she still walking and talking and letting her fingers lace with Rachel's?

Because she's never been able to stay away. "I... saw you... at the senior center. Last year."

Rachel comes to a full stop on the sidewalk, and since Quinn doesn't, their hands pull apart. She lets her drop to her side and just stares at Quinn. "You were... I don't... Why didn't you talk to me?"

Quinn shrugs. "I never thought you'd have anything to say to me." She sighs before she admits, "I also saw you at the NYADA alumni cabaret. And... a few other things."

This time, Rachel's mouth drops open, and she doesn't even care if she's being dramatic. "I don't understand. You've been coming to my shows?"

"Not... all of them. And when I could make it, it was sometimes only after intermission. But..." Quinn tucks her hand back into her pockets. "You've been working so hard and I've never really been that far away, I just thought... you deserve to have someone you know see what you've been working on."

Rachel tries as hard as she can to imagine Quinn standing in the back of the theatre in the dark, watching her perform. On one hand, it's incredibly sweet and heartwarming. On the other... "How could you be there for so many and never once talk to me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to see me."

Rachel rolls her eyes and starts walking again, catching by the arm this time and looping hers through it. "You always seemed so smart when we were in school."

"You think it's dumb that I came to see you so many times?" Quinn asks, but she knows better.

"I think it's dumb that you never said anything when you were there."

"Honestly," Quinn brushes her hair away from her face with her free hand. "I thought about it the first couple of times, but I didn't think you wanted to... because we hadn't talked in so long. And then after the next few times, I was worried you'd think I was a creeper for showing up."

"Well, you couldn't have been too worried or you wouldn't have said anything about it now." Rachel thinks about what she's just said. "Why _are_ you bringing it up now?"

"Because I can't stop thinking about kissing you," Quinn mumbles, her eyes on the brightly lit signs of the theater district. "But it's not because it's the first time I've seen you in years. Because I've seen you. You just... haven't seen me."

"Well, no one said you had to stop," Rachel says quietly. "If you're still thinking about it, then why aren't you doing it?"

Quinn looks upward, taking in the sky and noting the lack of visible stars. "Because I don't want to hurt you."

"Quinn, I've already told you that I don't have any expectations on you. You're not going to hurt me."

"It's the unexpected that I'm worried about." Quinn draws her gaze down from above and finally settles on Rachel's face. "And we just started talking, again. I don't know what got into me, back there."

Rachel doesn't try to hide the fact that it's disappointing. "Well, we can keep talking. If you want." She doesn't add that she can't remember the last time someone walked her home from a rehearsal.

Quinn watches Rachel's face fall and it makes her heart sink, a little. "I didn't mean I don't want..." Why is it so hard to say what she's thinking? It's never a problem, any other time. "Things have changed and I just feel like maybe we should get to know each other before we... um, before I make another move like that."

It's different, this dynamic. Maybe things really have changed, though Quinn still seems very much like Quinn. "You want to get to know me before making another move?" She does her best to sound flirty, but she's sure it sounds more like something from a bad television show.

"I miss you," Quinn replies.

Well, now she's just _trying_ to make Rachel's heart melt. "If you really don't want us kissing right now, you should probably not say things like that."

Quinn notices that they've stopped walking and that they're standing in front of an older apartment building. A quick assessment of the brickwork and design suggests it was built mid-century. "Is this where you live?" she asks, glancing from Rachel to the building next to them. She really wants to know if the interior has been completely renovated or not, but she's not about to ask if she can come up. Given the evening's events, that seems... dangerous.

Rachel watches Quinn's eyes shift and then says, "I know how interested you are in architecture. Did you want to come inside and see it? The apartments aren't anything spectacular, but the lobby is nice."

"Just the lobby," Quinn's telling herself just as much as she's saying it to Rachel. "It's getting late and I still have a long train ride back home," she explains.

Maybe someday Rachel will offer to let Quinn stay with her instead of riding the train all the way back to New Haven, but Rachel understands that today is not the day to ask. She nods and leads Quinn to the door. "Just the lobby," she agrees. If she's lucky, she may be able to get another kiss before Quinn vanishes into the night.

The lobby is standard for these types of building, but that also means it still retains it's original design and Quinn can't help but smile to herself as she looks around. It isn't the vast, marbled art deco expanse of the Empire State Building's entryway. Instead, it's home to several pieces of what look like local artwork and is furnished with some well worn, but cared for pieces of furniture. It looks like a place where artists live, real ones, ones who don't stencil and paint bonnets on geese for a living.

"This is really cool," Quinn says, letting her arm slip from Rachel's until their hands catch together.

"Quinn, your hands are freezing." Rachel doesn't mean to ruin such a nice moment, but she can't help it. It's chilly outside, but the icyness in Quinn's touch is surprising, now that they're inside. "It's been a long day. You're not feeling sick, are you? I have tea upstairs."

"What? Oh," Quinn pulls her hand from Rachel's and rubs her palms together. "Yeah, it got cooler than I thought it would. Sorry." Again, her hands end up in the pockets of her pants and she shrugs. "Thanks for showing me your lobby and... as great as tea sounds, I really should get back. Merman tends to worry. And by worry, I mean, chew."

"Okay, well..." Rachel isn't as clingy as she used to be. She's fine with letting Quinn fade away once again, even if there's no guarantee that they'll even really speak again. She can cope with it if she has to, but she still wants her goodnight kiss. They're standing toe to toe, and Rachel looks up into Quinn's eyes. She could just... pop up on her toes and it would be a done deal, but the way that Quinn's been acting the last several minutes has her thinking that it might not end well if she takes things into her own hands. So, all she can do is stand and breathe and wait. "Goodnight, Quinn."

Rachel wants a kiss, Quinn can tell. And, frankly, Quinn wants one, too. She just doesn't know where it will lead. Then again, she was once the queen of control, so maybe it's ridiculous to think she can't just do this and maintain a balance.

She dips her head down and meets Rachel's lips, but it's brief. If she stays there any longer, Quinn honestly doesn't know where they'll end up. "Goodnight, Rachel."


	2. Wish You Were Here

**Wish You Were Here**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

* * *

It hasn't even been twenty-four hours since Rachel took Quinn to the diner after rehearsal. They've interacted over the internet, but it isn't nearly enough, not when all Rachel can think about is how Quinn's mouth tastes and what it feels like to be pushed up against the wall and held there by Quinn's muscular body. She can't stop thinking about what it was like to feel Quinn's thigh pressing up into her and the way that Quinn moaned into her mouth when Rachel pulled her tighter.

She's also had a few glasses of wine, and maybe it's not the best idea she's ever had, but she wants to access that feeling again, the one that Quinn makes her feel. It's not completely out of the question for Rachel to want to extend an invitation that includes the entire cast and crew. The fact that she'd begged Kelsey to let her be the one to tell Quinn... well, that was admittedly a little more orchestrated.

She drums her fingers on the table while she waits for Quinn to answer her phone.

Quinn's in the middle of refinishing a rocking chair when her phone rings. Merman barks as Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell blast from the phone's speaker.

"Relax," Quinn says to him, wiping one hand on a nearby rag. She has a feeling it's Rachel. Or... she hopes that's who it is as she reaches to look at the screen.

It is.

"Hey," she says, tucking the phone between her ear and shoulder so she can finish wiping off her hands.

"Hey!" It's ridiculous to be surprised that Quinn would answer her own phone, but Rachel is still halfway through planning the voicemail message in case she doesn't. "I didn't expect you to answer. I don't know why not." She rolls her eyes and then says, "Um, how are you doing?"

Merman barks again and Quinn almost drops the phone, trying to wave her arm at him as she says, "Hush!" She readjusts the phone and continues. "Sorry. Not you. I'm... pretty good. Working on some stuff. But not a lot has happened since I left the city, I guess." She lies back on the deck and looks up at the night sky. "You thought I wouldn't answer?"

"I was just trying to be prepared in case I needed to leave a voicemail," Rachel says and then, because this is rapidly turning into a conversation she might have had with Finn in high school, with her playing Finn. "I'm calling because we're having a soiree this weekend. The cast and crew. Kelsey asked me to ask if you wanted to come."

Quinn doesn't even make an effort to hide her amusement, nor does she mention that she already knew about the event from a conversation she had with Kelsey over email. "A soiree? As in... I need to dress up? Dig out my dancing shoes? That kind of soiree?"

"Well," Rachel says, "You could wear whatever you want to." And now she's thinking about how Quinn looked, out in the alley, with her form-fitting sweater and her stylish leather jacket. She forces herself back into the present. "I hope you'll be there. I... enjoyed catching up with you the last night."

Catching up isn't exactly the right word, but she's dying to kiss Quinn again, and she can't help but wonder if Quinn feels the same way.

There's something in Rachel's voice that Quinn hasn't heard in a long time. Earnestness is maybe the right word for it.

"This weekend, you said? When?"

"Friday. Just after rehearsal, so... 10? You could meet us at the theatre, if you want."

Quinn laughs. "What happened to your promise of a dramatic greeting at Grand Central?"

"I don't- you want me to come all the way to the station and then walk with you _back_ to meet up with the cast? You could always come to the city more than once, you know."

"I would if I could, trust me. My schedule just makes it difficult." Quinn wants to hop a train, right now, and go see Rachel, but there's Merman and the fact that she just can't really be spontaneous, not the way her life's become.

"Trust me, I completely understand the limitations of a busy schedule, Quinn. How about if you meet us at the theatre, and I could walk you to catch your train after and get a cab home?" She really just wants as much time with Quinn as she can get.

Quinn wants to make a comment about how that nixes the idea of her visiting Rachel's building, again, but she also knows Rachel's probably just making conversation. As in, if Quinn wanted to, she could probably get another invitation to Rachel's apartment fairly easily. "I'll need to check the progress on the set, anyway, so that works out just fine for me. How late of a night do you think it'll be?"

"Well, some of our crew are night owls. You'd like them. We can leave whenever you'd like." It won't register with Rachel until after she hangs up how close this is sounding to a date. "I'm just looking forward to seeing you."

"It sounds like it'll be-" Because Quinn's lying on the deck, Merman takes it as a cue that she wants him to lie down and drop his head on her stomach and causes Quinn to grunt in reaction to the sudden weight pressing down on her. "Seriously?" she asks the dog, before putting her hand on his head and scratching behind his ears. "Sorry. Fun, I think, was what I meant to say. I had a really good time with you, when there wasn't already a _soiree _involved, so this should be... fun," she repeats.

"You're making fun of me." Rachel tries her best to sound affronted, but she really kind of likes it that Quinn seems so tuned in to how she speaks.

"I really wasn't. But I can if that's what you're into," Quinn offers.

Rachel sips her tea. "Well, that depends on what you're into."

"Moonlit walks on the beach, French poetry, crap like that." Quinn picks up a nearby rawhide bone and blindly tosses it in the general direction of the grass, sending Merman after it. She brushes her hand over her sweatshirt to straighten it out.

"I'm so glad you've committed to taking me seriously," Rachel says dryly. "It's fine if I'm the only one who can't stop thinking about the last night. It wouldn't be the first time it's happened." She knows that this may be too much, too soon, but she also knows that what happened between them was explosive and intense, and if there's one thing that Rachel Berry responds to, it's intensity. She hasn't been able to get Quinn out of her head all week.

Quinn pushes herself up onto an elbow, as if Rachel can actually see her and it's putting them on equal levels. Rachel's always been one to present her feelings, front and center. Quinn, not so much. "I never said I wanted to forget what happened. I also actually thoroughly enjoyed my Classic European Poetry class, sophomore year," she adds, though she knows that really isn't the point. "I'm not bullshitting you."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with your professor that semester, would it?" Rachel isn't stupid, but it's also possible that Quinn genuinely enjoyed the class.

"You don't really want to talk about her, right now, do you?" Quinn asks. "And it was a great course, regardless."

"I wasn't asking for specifics," Rachel says. "Although, if you want to go toe to toe discussing our exes, I'd be glad to bring along my scrapbook to the soiree."

"You really think your scrapbook can hold up to _Maîtresse, embrasse-moi, baise-moi, serre-moi_?" It's been awhile since Quinn's actually spoken French out loud, but it easily rolls off her tongue as she recalls one of her favorite poems.

Rachel shivers involuntarily at the sound of French coming off of Quinn's tongue. She's never heard it before, not from Quinn, and she's surprised at how good it sounds. She recovers as quickly as she can with, "There may not be any romantic languages in it, but I'm sure the sheer number of pages could hold their own against a couple of poems."

"Quality versus quantity," Quinn counters, sitting all the way up. "And I bet I'm a better date than any of those guys who are probably unknowingly pasted between your vast collection of acid free pages."

Rachel raises an eyebrow, even though Quinn can't see. "What happened to you being a difficult person to date? It hasn't even been a day since you called yourself undateable and now you're suddenly you're _the_ one to bring home to a person's dads?"

"Just because I excel at the act of dating doesn't make me the ideal girlfriend. It's kind of always been my problem, actually." It doesn't escape Quinn that Rachel's throwing out the hypothetical of meeting the Berry dads. Granted, she's already met them. But not as anyone of importance to Rachel.

The act of dating. Leave it to Quinn Fabray to turn romance into a competition. Of course, if there's one thing that Rachel loves, it's competing, so it kind of works out. The thought makes her laugh softly. "I think you just need to find someone you can be yourself around and forget trying to win some type of medal for being the best girlfriend in the world."

"I tend to compete for trophies and tiaras, not medals." Quinn considers what Rachel's saying to her and wonders if she's talking about herself as someone Quinn can be herself around.

"I would think you of all people would recognize that winning is winning," Rachel says. Her tea is gone, so she takes it to the sink and traps her phone between her shoulder and ear while she washes it and sets it aside to dry. And then, to get them back on track, she adds, "Not everyone is expecting you to fail, you know."

"So, you're saying you think I'd have a chance at this medal you're talking about?" Why does it even matter? It's not like they're going to be girlfriends. Neither of them are looking to date. Even if Rachel gives Quinn this ridiculous giddy feeling when they talk to each other. "It was the French, wasn't it?"

"Well, it _is_ an effective kissing technique," Rachel admits.

Quinn's mind is now focused on those moments outside the diner as she mutters, "_Mille et mille baisers donne-moi je te prie_." It's from the same poem as before, but she wonders if Rachel even knows what she's saying. Probably not.

Rachel's curled in the chair in her room now, underneath her favorite throw. She's warm and comfortable and working in a show and singing on the side. And, now, she can add talking to Quinn late at night to the things that are currently making her happy. She tries to remind herself not to read too much into it. That it's just some harmless flirting. "Um... something about kissing?" she asks. "I only know the word _baisers_ because Noah thought he would try and sweep me off my feet during that week we dated in high school."

"He only knew that because he used to watch French softcore porn. I know, because I found the DVD stuck in a copy of Huckleberry Finn when I lived there for, like, five minutes." Quinn's still out on her deck, sitting under the autumn stars. "And it translates to 'thousand and thousand kisses give me I beg you' which is from a Pierre de Ronsard poem." For some reason she wants to explain that it isn't a remnant of the relationship she had with her former literature professor. "I actually learned that one when I was pregnant. Back when I used to read during glee club because I was either too bored or ready to claw my eyes out listening to everyone else's drama."

Rachel brushes her fingers through her bangs. "So, that raises the question- are you actually _saying_ those words or are you just showing off your grasp of French literature?"

She's pushing it; she knows she is. But she doesn't care.

Quinn can literally hear the crickets in her own yard as she considers her answer. Finally, "Can't it be both?"

Rachel feels her breath catch. "Quinn," she says slowly, "if you want to... you're the one who stopped last night."

"It doesn't mean I don't want..." Quinn knows she's the one who stopped and pulled away. She also knows she hasn't stopped thinking about Rachel in... a very long time. "It was just a lot at once," she admits. "I haven't been... with anyone else in a while."

"We don't have to... have an agenda. I would be okay with just the kissing, if it's something you want, too." Rachel can feel her body reacting just from discussing this with Quinn. It's not something she's ever experienced. Not to this extent.

She likes it.

Quinn tugs at one of the strings to her hoodie, then studies the paint brushes that are still sitting out. She should have washed them because they're already drying and it's going to be a pain to clean them out. "I haven't been able to get you out of my head." She doesn't just mean this weekend, either.

"You haven't?" Rachel can't help the way her voice drops or how her breathing deepens. She really wishes they were having this conversation face to face so that she could... "Quinn..." She doesn't know how to communicate what she's feeling right now, or if she even should.

"Why do you think I kept showing up to your performances? It wasn't out of a passion for community theater." Quinn pokes at the rocking chair to see if the stain is close to drying. "I thought about saying something to you, telling you I was there... but I just figured you were better off not having anyone in your way. I almost even said no to Kelsey..."

"I'm glad you changed your mind," Rachel says softly. She's torn between wanting to talk more about what's happened between them and hearing Quinn let her guard down some more.

"Yeah, me too." Quinn tucks her knees up against her chest as she considers the fact that she's having a late-night one on one chat with Rachel, something she's missed for years. "What are you doing, right now?"

"I just had some tea, and now I'm curled up in my chair, talking to you." Rachel clears her throat. "And thinking about the other night."

"You've mentioned that a few times. I've never... done something like that before."

"Made out in an alley in New York City?"

"Yes, actually. But I also mean the stuff... before that." Rachel brings something out in Quinn, makes her not care about who's watching or where they are. "I feel... different... around you."

"Different, how?"

"Different like..." Quinn can sidestep this or she can just be straightforward. For once, she chooses the latter. "Like I've never wanted anything more. And it scares me."

"Quinn..." This is almost too much to hear, but in just the right way. "I wish I could see you tonight."

"By the time I got there, you'd... be asleep or something..." It's a half-assed excuse, but Quinn knows she can't just jump a train, right now. It would seem desperate.

Rachel smiles at that, and twirls a strand of hair around her finger. "But you'd consider it," she says.

"New York City at night happens to be something I'm into," Quinn replies.

"Is that _all_ you're into?"

Quinn closes her eyes, for no real reason, other than to further isolate herself from her surroundings. "Kissing. The tentative kind, at first, until that point where it shifts to want. The kind where, if I pull back, you'll chase right after it. I'm into that."

"That sounds... I could be into that," Rachel says breathlessly. All she can think about is how Quinn's tongue feels against hers, and she wants it. Now. "That's... I'm..." Rachel wets her lips and tries again. "You're turning me on."

There isn't even an effort needed to make the recollection as Quinn's reminded of that night and how she could smell Rachel's arousal. "I'm into that, too."

Rachel shifts in her chair and is suddenly very aware of her level of arousal. "You're... _really_ good at it."

"I'm not even trying, yet," Quinn says, smirk splayed across her face.

"God, what is it like when you _try_?"

"Maybe you'll find out this weekend."

Rachel runs a shaky hand through her hair and laughs. "I hope so," she says because, really, what else is there to say about it?


	3. I Got It in for You

**I Got It in for You**

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******Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**  


* * *

Quinn's running early, because she left at seven and arrived in the city by eight, so gives her plenty of time to check her appearance, to make sure her skirt's hitting just right above her knees and that her boots are doing the same, just below them.

She changed three times before she left the house.

And she's still early.

It's fine, because it means she can catch the end of Rachel's rehearsal and take in the sight of the other woman in her element. Well, kind of her element. It would be more fitting if it were a musical. Regardless, Rachel's a professional and it shows.

Quinn casually takes a seat in the back of the black box, though with the size of the space it means she's only about ten rows from the stage.

Rachel sees Quinn come in- she's been watching for her- but she doesn't break the scene. In fact, if anything, her performance gets better simply because she knows Quinn is in the house. They work one more scene, and Rachel gets a chance to showcase her talent just a little, since it calls for her character to react to the death of her daughter. She doesn't give it everything she has- she's a firm believer in saving something for opening night- but by the time the lights come up and Quinn joins them, she's brushing away the tears she'd accessed for the scene. She's still very proud of her ability to cry believable tears for a role.

She composes herself and smiles at Quinn. It's not difficult to do when Quinn is the best thing Rachel's seen all day.

"I'm happy you made it tonight," Rachel tells her, pulling on her jacket.

"Well, you talked it up like it was the event of the year. It's at Elton John's place, right?" Quinn actually has no idea where this party is actually being held, but she isn't expecting much more than finger foods and moderately priced wine.

"Trump Tower," Rachel says, and then loops her arm through Quinn's. "It's actually at this restaurant that's owned by Kelsey's father-in-law. Dim lighting, linen table cloths." She takes the opportunity to take in Quinn's outfit. "You should fit right in."

Quinn smiles as Rachel so easily settles against her side. "This is just what I was wearing around the house, anyway." She knows Rachel knows it's a blatant lie. A few of the other cast members are talking about taking a cab over to the restaurant, but Quinn doesn't want to miss out on time in the city with Rachel. "Would you mind if we walked? Or... if you want to ride over, that's fine, too."

If Quinn wears _that_ skirt casually around her house, Rachel has at least four Tonys sitting at home on various shelves, collecting dust. She ignores Quinn's obvious lie in favor of leaning up and whispering in Quinn's ear, "There aren't many alleys on the way there, if that's what you're hoping for."

Quinn shoots a look at her, then immediately redirects her gaze forward, leading them out onto the sidewalk. "Maybe I just like the night air," she says. "And," her voice lowers in volume, "I think I had you up against a building, later, anyway."

Something inside of Rachel's stomach flips at Quinn's words, and a part of her is dying for Quinn to have her up against any building as soon as possible. Another part of her wants Quinn to get to know her cast and enjoy the evening together as two mature, interesting women of the world who have a lot of history together. Both parts keep stealing glances at Quinn's mouth.

The deepness in Quinn's voice catches her attention and she wonders how she's supposed to make it through the evening.

"You had me against a lot of things," she mutters.

Quinn's pretty sure they can't just ditch the party, so she makes an effort to pace herself to keep herself from shoving her hand down the front of Rachel's jeans up against the hood of a car or something. She tightens her arm around Rachel's. "If you're lucky, maybe I'll find even more places to... have you."

Rachel glances up. "You want to _have_ me?" she asks in a teasing tone, but she's sure it doesn't do enough to mask how turned on she's becoming, already, just from skirting this issue with Quinn. Even if she could, she's worried that Quinn might be able to smell her again, and that would be... Who in this world is even that _easy_?

"I want a lot of things," Quinn muses. "You know what? We should just take a cab." If they don't, they're definitely going to be late, or worse, not show up at all.

The words are barely out of Quinn's mouth and Rachel already has her arm outstretched. She'd whistle, if she could, just to add to the dramatics of everything, but when the cab wheels up to the curb, it's just about as good as it could possibly get, anyway. She turns wide-eyed to Quinn. "I didn't think that would work. I have never in my life gotten a cab that fast."

Quinn pulls open the door and scoots into the backseat after Rachel, who's already relaying the restaurant address to the cabbie. "That was kind of incredible," she says, as Rachel finally rests back into the rest. Her hand rests on Rachel's knee and she's quickly reminded of that night at the diner.

The adrenaline rush, coupled with the way they've been flirting and talking about kissing over the past few days would be enough to make Rachel want Quinn, even without the added feeling of Quinn's hand on her knee. But even through her jeans, it's electric.

It also reminds Rachel of the way Quinn pushed her fingers against Rachel's body under the table at the diner, and she can feel her body responding to the memory. By way of encouragement, she strokes one finger against the back of Quinn's hand before dragging it higher up her thigh.

"You know," she whispers into Quinn's ear, "I've been thinking about you all day, Quinn."

"That's..." Quinn's eyes fall shut and her hand grips more tightly around the denim. "Interesting. You should... tell me more about that."

Rachel shifts in the seat. "What do you want to know?"

"Well, was this thinking about me more like you were charting out sightseeing tours we could take together?" Quinn opens her eyes and turns her head toward Rachel as her hand slips higher. "Or like... remembering what it was like to feel me pressed between your thighs?"

"Yes," Rachel breathes, and all she wants is to feel that again, right now. It takes some effort, but she forces her eyes open. "Kiss me," she says.

Quinn leans closer and obliges Rachel with the requested, no, demanded kiss. When their lips make contact, Quinn turns even more toward Rachel, her tongue already dragging over the other woman's bottom lip.

The kiss is heated, passionate, and Rachel responds to it with everything she has. She makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a groan, and weaves her fingers into Quinn's hair, pulling her closer.

Quinn's hand is dangerously close to making Rachel lose control right here in the back of this cab. The scary thing is, she _wants_ to.

There's a desire to just climb right on top of Rachel, right there- No, actually, Quinn wants to pull Rachel on top of _her_, but the low volume of NY1 news on the monitor in front of them reminds her that they're in a car, in traffic, in public. Although, much more of this and there's a very good chance she may not care.

"Quinn," Rachel moans against Quinn's mouth, and tightens her grip. It's getting very difficult for Rachel to care about the party, and Quinn isn't even doing anything with her hand right now. Though a few inches further up, and Rachel would have no choice but to start moving her hips. She pulls back just enough to whisper, "I want this. I want _you_."

It's enough to make Quinn bite her own lip and shut her eyes as she deeply considers the option of just telling the driver to go somewhere far, somewhere like New Jersey or Nebraska, so they can continue this. Except the cab's come to a stop and when Quinn reopens her eyes, she sees that the news highlights have stopped and the screen now shows what they owe for the ride.

"Maybe we should have a drink and you can tell me more about what you want," Quinn suggests. The polite thing to do is to go inside and mingle, even briefly, before disappearing somewhere to make Rachel writhe and groan and- yeah... they need to hurry this up.

Rachel pays the fare while Quinn shifts her weight from foot to foot on the sidewalk. Inside, it's warm and the lighting is exactly like Rachel said it would be. It's not that big of a place, and Rachel can see the whole room fro the front door. From what she can tell, they're the last ones to show up.

Her entire body is still on fire, and her lips are burning from Quinn's kisses. "There's Kelsey. I'll get something from the bar. What do you drink?" Alcohol is probably a bad idea right now, considering all she wants is for Quinn to be able to touch her however she wants to without interruption. At this rate, it's not going to take much for Rachel; she's already so turned on. On the other hand, some distance from Quinn might be good right now.

Quinn's caught up in staring straight down the dipped vee at the front of Rachel's sweater and it takes her a second to answer. She hasn't really ever been much of a drinker, at least not outside of college. She's been to enough Yale theme parties to know what she can handle, but she never got used to the lack of control that came with it. "Um, surprise me?" she says.

Rachel allows Quinn to stare down her sweater for a moment before murmuring, "Subtlety is not exactly your strong suit, is it? I'll be right back."

She feels a fresh wave of arousal as she makes her way to the bar, thinking about how the look on Quinn's face was almost- predatory isn't quite the word, but it's probably as close as she's going to get, right now. She likes the way Quinn looks at her. And now she just wants Quinn's hands on her and it isn't fair that they're in public. Again.

She waits for their drinks and watches Quinn talk to some of the crew. There's a nagging voice that this is too fast. That she's going to blow whatever this is with Quinn- or that she won't savor it properly- and then it will be over just as quickly as it began. Part of it, for Rachel at least, is that it's been nearly a year since she's been with anyone, and that's enough to make a person feel crazy. But then, this is Quinn, and if Rachel were being honest with herself, she would admit that Quinn has always made a tiny part of her heart race. It's just... a lot more of it that's racing now.

She brings Quinn a shot and smirks when she hands it to her.

Quinn accepts the tiny glass and raises her eyebrow when she sees that Rachel's holding a glass of wine. The drink in her hand isn't just straight hard liquor, it's probably something with a clever name, like Brain Eraser or Purple Hooter or-

"Oh, hey, Slippery Nipple, good choice," comments Carl, one of the guys from the crew.

Again, Quinn shoots Rachel a look, then casually clinks her shot glass against the stemmed one in Rachel's hand. "To surprises," she says, then raises her drink.

Rachel smiles around the rim of her wine glass and then tips it back. All of it. It's not usually how she does things, but there's just something about the way Quinn is looking at her that makes her want to be daring. This isn't the kind of party where there's dancing, and it's a real shame, considering the mood Rachel is in right now.

"I wish I could dance with you right now," she whispers into Quinn's hair. She's not drunk, by any stretch, but one glass of wine is enough to make her feel tingly, and she's not above capitalizing on it.

Even though Quinn still has the taste of Bailey's and Kahlua in her mouth, her glass is already empty and abandoned on a nearby table, leaving without the advantage that Rachel has of fiddling with her wine glass. Quinn decides it's a prime opportunity to press her palms against either side of Rachel's hips as she gently sways to the canned music that's playing through the restaurant's speakers. "So, dance with me."

Rachel lets Quinn lead, and suddenly they're dancing in the middle of a fancy restaurant, with Rachel friends all around them.

"I haven't only ever dated men, you know," Rachel says softly. She's not sure why she's bringing it up now or why it even matters, but she feels like Quinn ought to know.

Quinn replies with a low chuckle. "I think your pick-up lines could use a little work." She pulls Rachel against her, risking a dropped wine glass in the process. "And, anyway, it doesn't matter." Her head drops as she presses her mouth to Rachel's ear, "Because the things I want to do with you are going to make you forget any of them even existed."

"Quinn," Rachel breathes. It's probably the single sexiest thing Rachel has ever heard anyone say. "I can't believe that this is happening, or that it's happening so fast, but I can't deny that I need you." She sets her wine glass down on a table before curling her fingers around the back of Quinn's neck and pulling her close, so close that Rachel barely has to open her mouth when she says, "I'd let you have me right now, if we weren't in the middle of this restaurant."

That's twice, now, that Rachel hasn't wanted to be the center of attention and it definitely doesn't go unnoticed by Quinn. "So, take me somewhere that isn't the middle of this restaurant," she suggests. Her hands slip around to the small of Rachel's back, keeping them tightly aligned with each other.

What Quinn is suggesting, it's- it's sneaky and sexy and, god, it's making Rachel wet.

She pulls away enough to lace her fingers with Quinn's and tugs until Quinn follows. "Come on," she says, determined now, and just the tiniest bit afraid to catch Kelsey's eye on the way to the bathroom in the back. At least this is a nice place, and hopefully the bathroom will be classy enough to make up for the fact that Rachel is currently leading Quinn Fabray to it in the hopes that Quinn will slide her hand down the front of Rachel's jeans.

The ladies room is a single, meaning there's a deadbolt and Quinn immediately twists it into the locked position before shoving Rachel up against the back of door. She's been ready for this since Rachel looped their arms together back at the theater. The way she wants Rachel, the way she thinks about her, the way she reacts to her... it's unreal and unlike anything else. She really does wonder how nothing like this ever happened back in college.

"Better?" she asks.

It _is_ better. But it's not enough. Rachel isn't sure whether she wants Quinn to kiss her or- Her eyes flutter shut and she says the one thing she's been thinking all night. "Touch me, Quinn."

She doesn't even care where.

Quinn's right hand quickly gravitates toward the sweater she's been eyeing, particularly where it stretches over Rachel's breasts. Her hand cups around the swell and she swears she can feel Rachel's rapid heartbeat. She can't resist the lure or Rachel's lips on her own, so she closes the space between them so they're kissing, again.

Rachel arches her back to encourage Quinn to keep doing what she's doing. She can feel her nipples hardening, and when Quinn pinches one through her sweater, she knows that Quinn can tell how turned on she is. She breaks her mouth away from Quinn's kiss, gasping and thumping her head back against the door.

She's _so_ wet, and she needs to feel Quinn pressing against her like she did that night in the alley, so she slides her knee up Quinn's thigh and wraps her leg around Quinn as best she can. It's enough to give her some friction, and she groans and surges up, catching Quinn's mouth with hers once more.

Quinn leans into Rachel, rocking her thigh where she knows Rachel needs her. Even though Rachel's wearing jeans, Quinn's pretty sure she's going to end up with a wet spot on the front of her skirt when all this is over. Her left hand grabs Rachel's wrist and raises it until she pins it to the door over Rachel's head.

This focus, this intensity from Quinn is all Rachel needs to let go. She doesn't care that everyone involved with her play is on the other side of the door. She doesn't care that she's about to have sex in a restaurant bathroom. The only thing she cares about right now is how Quinn Fabray is making her feel.

Every interaction, every time she sought Quinn out at school, every train trip, they're all in the back of Rachel's mind right now as she works herself against Quinn's thigh. She squeezes with her leg around Quinn's hip, trying to bring them closer. "God, Quinn, I-" Her head thumps back against the door once again. The feeling of Quinn holding her here, pinning her arm above her head, kissing and rocking and making Rachel feel amazing... it's almost too much to handle all at once.

It's not a shock that Rachel's so damn limber, Quinn knows she's been trained in dance and even had some hardcore instruction at NYADA, but the way Rachel's able to move while they're tangled up like this... it's incredible. Her hand releases Rachel's wrist only to lock their fingers together.

Her other hand, the right one, has abandoned the idea of groping through the material of Rachel's sweater and is currently trekking downward, under the hem of the garment, then trailing back up, over the soft skin of Rachel's stomach, until Quinn's fingertips are met with lace as she rolls a nipple between her fingers.

"Quinn," Rachel whines, arching back again. "You're driving me crazy. I'm so-" Turned on. Aroused. _Wet_. "I need you."

"Good," Quinn hums, her mouth pressed against Rachel's jaw before she moves to her ear, then below, dragging her tongue along Rachel's skin.

"You feel so good." Rachel does her best to stay focused. It's admittedly a little difficult when she feels like if Quinn weren't holding her up, she'd be collapsing to the floor. She shifts and drags Quinn's skirt up a little more. One hand is gripping Quinn's waist and the other pinned against the door. She feels completely out of control, and it's only making her grind harder.

There's a moment where Quinn stills, just to experience Rachel's reaction, to hear her whimper and feel her hips draw forward in desperation. "Fuck, Rachel," Quinn groans against Rachel's shoulder, her body resuming its motion and providing the needed friction. Her skirt's hiked up so far, at this point, that her bare leg is what's pressing between Rachel's thighs and she can feel the dampness through her jeans. "You're soaked."

Rachel's groan turns into a grunt as Quinn drives up into her. She's clutching at Quinn's back now, trying desperately to get where she needs to be.

"It's you," is the only thing she can get out, but she's pretty confident, even in her current state, that Quinn understands what she means.

"I'm making you wet," Quinn confirms. Her teeth lightly catch on the shell of Rachel's ear. "And I'm pretty sure I'm about to make you come."

"Fuck," Rachel breathes.

Hearing Quinn talk like that is just about the best thing Rachel has ever experienced. Well, besides what is currently happening between their bodies. Quinn certainly knows what she's doing, and Rachel is so tuned in to her that if she doesn't come soon, she might die.

"I want you to." The words don't materialize easily, and Rachel has to search for them, so they come out slowly, breathy and punctuated by Quinn's thrusts against her. "Make me come," is the added clarification.

"The thing is," Quinn begins, and suddenly she's using her whole body to keep Rachel from moving. "If I do that, you're going to have to go back out there and talk to all your friends, knowing your panties are completely ruined," she relaxes to let Rachel move again, but only to thrust back against her in return, "all," another thrust, "because," and again, "of me."

On the last word, Rachel feels a sharp pinch on her nipple, and between that, Quinn's hot breath on her neck, and the way Quinn's thigh is rubbing against her, she tenses up and shakes against Quinn's body while her orgasm rips through her. She buries her face in Quinn's neck to muffle the high-pitched groan she can't contain.

Once again, Quinn uses her body to brace Rachel against the door, but now it's to keep her upright, because she's positive Rachel can't hold herself up, right now. "You're incredible," she whispers, unsure if Rachel can even process the English language at this point in time.

Quinn smells amazing. She smells amazing, and she's so strong. Rachel knows that she's speaking, but it seems far away, and Rachel is still shaking. "I'm- you're-" She can't think of how she wants to say that Quinn makes her feel like no one ever has.

"I'm... you're..." Quinn teases. She kisses Rachel, and carefully lowers the arm that's been held over Rachel's head this whole time and guides it until it's wrapped around Quinn's waist. Her own arms loop around Rachel and hold her, the flowery scent of Rachel's shampoo making itself evident to Quinn, though it's mingled with the smell of Rachel and that's the part that's driving Quinn crazy.

"Shut up," Rachel says, but she's smiling lazily. She's slowly coming back to earth and starting to think about having Quinn the same way Quinn just had her. "That was- really, Quinn, wow, but I need..." She pushes against Quinn's body to try and get some space between them so she can touch.

Quinn's vaguely aware that someone's going to eventually need to use this room and they're likely going to be caught in the act, but the look in Rachel's eyes is impossible to ignore. And Quinn's been dreaming about Rachel looking at her like this since... she can't even do the math, right now. "You can barely hold yourself up," she teases.

"That doesn't mean that I'm incapacitated," Rachel says, "or that I don't want you." She presses a kiss to Quinn's lips and then whispers, "Come back with me to my apartment and let me..." She lets her eyes wander down to Quinn's chest before forcing them back up. "I want you to."

It's nearly impossible to resist, especially with the way Rachel's fingers keep trailing over her sides, but is it really the best idea? Quinn doesn't want to blow this, whatever it is. "What about the party?"

Rachel stares at her blankly. "I'm an actress. I'll make up an excuse."

"You live for this stuff, don't you? New York theater soirees?" Quinn asks, pushing Rachel's hair away from her face. As much as she loves the idea of Rachel just taking her home and returning the favor, she doesn't want their years of pent up attraction, or whatever this is, to cut into Rachel's life.

Rachel ducks her head. "Right now, I want you."

"Yeah, you said that," Quinn replies, amused. She catches Rachel's chin with her fingers and tilts her head back up. "So, let's go."

It turns out, Rachel doesn't really have to make up any excuses. To her knowledge, nobody even notices them leave, and it kind of disappoints her a little bit. But then, they're back in a cab, and back to kissing in the backseat.

"You're sure," Quinn mumbles, her mouth barely able to shape the words, "you want to take me home with you?" It's stupid question, really, because Rachel's told her how much she already wants her.

"Are you seriously asking me that, Quinn Fabray? After what just happened at that party?"

"Just checking," Quinn breathes, before covering Rachel's mouth back up with her own and ultimately silencing her. Kind of.

It's not really silence if you count the soft moans Rachel is making into Quinn's mouth. She's careful not to let it get too out of hand, since they're in the back of a cab and all. She does take the opportunity to break the kiss and breathe into Quinn's ear, "You must be ready to snap. I'll bet it won't take long at all, Quinn. Will it?"

Quinn likes to believe she's always been good at controlling herself, at least in this context. She made a career out of it in high school and she's always been able to tap back into the part of her that was once Celibacy Club president, when it was necessary. Right now, though, that particular persona is inaccessible and Quinn, the one who's currently in the back of a yellow cab with Rachel, whines and nods and frantically seeks out Rachel's mouth for more kisses.

The way Quinn is reacting is uncalculated and needy, and Rachel likes it very much. It's kind of incredible, actually, seeing her this way. She wonders if many other people get to see Quinn Fabray moments away from begging to be touched. "What is it that you want, Quinn?" Rachel murmurs, trying out some of the control she has over this situation.

"I want this driver to hurry up and get us to your apartment," Quinn quips. She might be aroused to the point where she can't remember her own address, but she certainly hasn't lost her ability to be a smart ass.

She doesn't have to wait much longer, but it's still fun for Rachel to see Quinn this antsy. When they pull up in front of the building, Rachel again pays the fare and then turns to lead Quinn inside. She suddenly feels very shy, very nervous, and _very_ anxious to make this good for Quinn.

For as much attention Quinn gave the building design and architecture the last time she was here, she barely gives any of it a second glance as Rachel pulls her toward the elevator. As they stand in the lobby and wait for the doors to slide open, she can't resist moving in for another round of kissing. She can't get enough of it.

In the elevator, Rachel takes the opportunity to slide her hand up Quinn's shirt. The kissing doesn't stop until the doors open on Rachel's floor and she drags Quinn out of the elevator. Rachel fumbles with the key and then she's pushing at the door, anxious to get Quinn into her bedroom. She's never wanted anything more than she wants Quinn's clothes off, right now. The door budges and then thumps, and Rachel's still in the hallway, with the door still wedged shut.

Lydia.

Rachel pounds on the door. "Dammit, Lydia, let me in!"

She knows that Lydia is most likely far too occupied to hear (or care) that she's once again locked Rachel out of the apartment by wedging a chair under the doorknob. Rachel sighs and sags against Quinn's side before looking up apologetically.

"My roommate has this habit of bringing her conquests home and... I've asked her repeatedly to just use the deadbolt, and she insists that she will, but then something like this happens. I'm sorry."

Quinn's arm tightens around Rachel's waist and she kisses the side of her head. "Well," she says, "I see two options. One," she turns to lean against the wall so she's facing Rachel. "I can kick this door until it caves in and kick Lydia's ass for being what sounds like the worst roommate, ever. Or, two, we can go back downstairs and take a walk and by the time we get back, she should be done." Her hands hold both of Rachel's in her own and she sways their arms back and forth. "And if she isn't, we're back to number one."

"One can only hope she's done," Rachel grumbles, leading Quinn back down to the elevator. It isn't that late, and it's a nice night out for a walk, but Rachel was really looking forward to having some privacy with Quinn. Well. There's always teasing. Besides, walking through the city at night hand in hand with Quinn Fabray isn't entirely unappealing.

It's that thought that has her grinning all the way through the lobby and back outside.


	4. Sooner or Later

**Sooner or Later**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

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They head downtown for a few blocks, Quinn's arm wrapped around Rachel as they walk through Hell's Kitchen. The shops are closed, but the bars and a few of the restaurants are still open.

She knows they're both still buzzing from the excitement of earlier, she's still turned on, but it's not like she can't dial it down for a little while. If anything, she's enraged that Rachel would have such a selfish roommate. What if Rachel just wanted to come home and go to bed? Or worse, what if Rachel was coming home and there was a serial killer and she was trying to get into the apartment and lock him out? Seriously, Lydia's getting piece of Quinn's mind when they finally get into the apartment.

Quinn could wander the city all night, but she doesn't know if Rachel's up for that so she asks, "Did you want to get another drink? Or... you didn't eat anything at the party. Do you want to stop somewhere?"

"No more alcohol, please," Rachel says. "I'm fine with walking for a while." She slips her hand into Quinn's and squeezes once. It's warmer than it was last night. "Tell me about Connecticut?"

"I guess in some ways it's like a classier version of Ohio. You know, suburbs and stuff, but then there's Yale and once you're a certain distance from the school, it's kind of average. There's a lot of history there, though, which I like. And the jazz festival is really cool." Quinn steps aside to let a pack of college kids pass by them, then resumes her pace. "I guess you never really saw more than the campus the few times you came out, but I didn't know a lot about the rest of the area, back then. We could have gone apple picking or something."

"Couldn't we still go apple picking?" Rachel asks. It's the perfect weather for it and she kind of loves the idea of doing date-y things with Quinn. Though, she's not really sure when she would even have time, with the way her schedule is now.

Quinn's silent as they past the next few storefronts, because she loves the idea of being out in some orchard with Rachel, sunlight in her hair, but, "I don't know when I'd be able to go. And you have the show coming up..."

There happens to be a guy up on the next corner, playing a saxophone. It's a very welcome distraction.

Right. The show.

"I won't have the show forever," Rachel counters. It's not even running for that long. They still have time.

Quinn hums a non-commital response. "Sounds like we could have been doing other things, too. You haven't only dated men?" she asks, squeezing Rachel's hand.

"I thought my pick up lines needed work," Rachel teases. It's kind of amazing that she feels so comfortable around Quinn. It's almost like no time has passed at all.

"Doesn't mean I'm not... curious," Quinn admits.

Rachel glances at Quinn through her eyelashes. "What would you like to know?"

Quinn doesn't want to come off like she's prying into Rachel's life, but the entire time she's known her, at least up until this week, Rachel's dated guys. She knows that doesn't necessarily mean anything, but considering how close they were at one time, she wonders why it didn't come up. They were still talking, albeit only occasionally, when Quinn started dating her first girlfriend. "When did you..." She doesn't want to be cliche about it and ask when Rachel knew, but... it's what she wants to know. "Was it in college?"

Rachel nods. "Junior year and then and then another just after graduation. Neither one was very serious, but..." She sighs. Her dads did really take a liking to Janelle, but it just wasn't made for the longterm. She can feel herself blush under Quinn's scrutiny. "You know that I've never bought into the belief that love is reserved for certain types of people."

"You just never said anything about... girls..." Quinn feels like she's about half her own age, right now. "I just mean, do you think that if I'd said something to you, before I met Spencer, do you think anything would have happened?"

Rachel stares at her. "_Would_ you have said something?"

"I don't know. I wasn't aware that there was a possibility of you being receptive to me saying something."

"Are you telling me that, back then, there was something for you to say?"

Quinn can't tell if Rachel's really surprised or if she's just trying to draw more information out of her. "If you recall from the other night, we already discussed the fact that you know I used to check you out."

"Quinn, I was just messing with you. I didn't think... there was anything _to_ that." It's a clear night, and the city is still New York, but right now it just feels... different. Everything feels different, when Rachel considers that Quinn might have had feelings for her all those years ago. What does that mean about what she's feeling now?

"I didn't know there was anything to it, at the time. Not in high school, anyway. I just... watched you a lot. It's actually probably a little creepy and I should stop talking about it before you totally just make a break for it." Quinn's kidding. Mostly.

"Are you suggesting that I might have a problem with the idea of my primary high school rival admitting to showing me attention?"

Quinn's mouth presses into a tight line, because she hates the fact that she once was exactly that. "I used to watch you, sometimes, when you were in the choir room, rehearsing with Finn." Her hand covers her face. "Oh my god, this is so embarrassing. I told myself it was because I wanted to be your friend. But, like, who does that?"

Rachel's mouth curves into a slow smile. "And all this time... you wanted me." It's not a question. This is just... this changes everything.

As much as Quinn's just reluctantly bared a big part of her past self, she's not without ammunition against Rachel. "It's not like I picked out your prom corsage or anything."

The smile vanishes and a gape of surprise shows up in its place. "How did you know about that?"

"When I was in the hospital after my accident, Finn brought me that bouquet of gardenias that you told him to bring and he admitted he didn't know which flowers to get because you'd helped him with the corsage in the first place." Quinn laughs at the memory. "He didn't even seem to care that I'd thought he'd taken the time to pick it out for me."

"I was just trying to be helpful," Rachel mumbles. She'd really never intended for Quinn to find out that she and Finn had ever discussed it. "I wasn't _pining_ over you."

Quinn's quick to defend herself. "I wasn't pining over you, either. I didn't know what it was that I wanted from you. And I really did... do... appreciate our friendship. That hasn't changed."

Rachel can't take it anymore. This news that Quinn might have... and after what happened between them earlier... She grips Quinn's hand tighter and tugs, leading her a little further up the sidewalk into a small alcove where an ATM must have been. She pushes Quinn against the bricks and stops just short of kissing her. Quinn's breath is coming in hot puffs against her mouth and she whispers, "And have you figured out what it is that you want from me?"

It's an unexpected move, though Quinn can't really say it's a complete surprise. They were about to spend the night together in Rachel's apartment and it's apparent that the conversation has only contributed to the desire Quinn sees reflected in Rachel's eyes. "Pretty sure it's what's happening, right now," she says, her eyes falling shut. She wants this, she wants Rachel.

She kind of always has.

"_This_ is what you want?" Rachel asks, sliding her hand up Quinn's stomach until she's cupping a perfect breast through Quinn's sweater. She feels like it's a little cheap, going straight for second, but then Quinn has already made her come and is likely very frustrated at the moment, considering Rachel's plans to take care of her fell through. And anyway, once she's touching Quinn like this, it doesn't really matter to her much at all.

Quinn nods, the brick rough against the back of her head as she moves. Her fingers tug at the sides of Rachel's sweater before she grips both hands at the sides of Rachel's ribs. "I don't _just _want this, but it's a good start."

The admission stops Rachel cold. "You don't?"

It's enough to make Quinn open her eyes and look at Rachel. "I'm not just after the sex." She's worried she's said too much. Maybe Rachel's panicking. "But, I mean, we don't have to... be..."

Rachel is still touching her, but her hand isn't moving. She's trying to process what Quinn has told her. "Well," she says after a moment, "you couldn't have the sex right now, even if it were all you're after. We're on the street."

It seems like the safest thing to say right now.

"So what exactly _were_ you planning to do, right now?" Quinn's hands gently stroke Rachel's sides.

"Well," Rachel glances at her hand on Quinn's breast and then lets her thumb brush across the nipple. "I hadn't thought much further past this, honestly. I've been dying to get my hands on you ever since what happened in the bathroom."

"You mean, when you basically rode my leg until you came? Is that what you're talking about?" Quinn needs Rachel to touch her more than this and she's banking on the fact that the reminder will encourage a little more hands-on interaction.

Quinn's words make Rachel's eyes flutter as arousal stabs through her. "Are you suggesting that I let _you_ ride _my_ leg right here in the middle of the street?" Rachel asks. She knows the answer will be no, but she wants Quinn to hear how it sounds on her lips. Besides, now that she knows Quinn wants this (and possibly more), and that they're pretty well hidden from view, Rachel allows herself to really touch. She uses her entire hand, kneading and cupping, squeezing Quinn's nipple and kissing her neck.

"God," Quinn manages, her head pressing back against the brick wall. One hand raises up to slip behind Rachel's head, her fingers tangling through thick hair, her thumb stroking the back of Rachel's neck. The feeling of Rachel's warm mouth on her neck is driving her absolutely insane, to the point where it's almost more effective that the attention that's being given to her breast. "Rachel..."

The way Quinn moans is turning Rachel on all over again, and the attention paid to Quinn's neck really seems to be getting a response. Rachel alternates between sucking and licking and kissing, and when it's not enough she uses her teeth. Her hand is up Quinn's shirt now, and touching all over, while the other hand grips Quinn's waist, holding her where Rachel wants her.

When Quinn feels Rachel's teeth against her skin, she tugs on Rachel's hair in response. Her hips want to move, but she's being held in place and as much as she's sure she could probably break free of Rachel's grip, she's letting Rachel lead.

"Would you like to know something about what _I _want, Quinn?" Rachel asks in Quinn's ear. Quinn nods almost imperceptibly, and Rachel takes the opportunity to slide her hand down as far as she can until her fingers meet skin. Skin under Quinn's skirt. Her nails are short, but she knows that Quinn can still feel them, dragging slowly up the inside of her thigh. "I want to know what it's like to make you come."

There's a whimper from the back of Quinn's throat before she uses her grip on Rachel's hair to align their mouths for a kiss. Her hips push forward, trying to initiate contact with Rachel's hand. Their tongues meet and she groans, because it's as if everything about Rachel just increasingly turns Quinn on.

The thrill of what they're doing isn't lost on Rachel. Here they are, in public, and Rachel's hand is nearly- Her eyes close and she lets her head drop to Quinn's shoulder as her fingers come in contact with... well, wetness. Quinn's wetness. "Oh my god," she mumbles into Quinn's neck.

It's been years since someone else has touched her like this and there have been plenty of times when Quinn touched herself and imagined it was Rachel. This, though, the real thing, is making Quinn squirm and whine and dig her fingers into Rachel's back. Rachel's barely touching her and as much of an advocate of Quinn might be about teasing, she's desperately in need of more. "Please." The word is barely audible, but it's breathed directly into Rachel's ear.

"Quinn..." Rachel says, and she's not sure whether it's the fact that Quinn is so wet or the fact that they're out here or that maybe it's just because it's Quinn, but whatever the cause, there is a lust flowing through Rachel that she can't ever remember feeling before. She wants this. She wants Quinn.

She slides her hand up and touches Quinn more fully, and then two different groans are kind of harmonizing, and Rachel feels a little bit delirious.

There's still a plan in the back of Quinn's mind to punch Lydia in the face when she gets back to Rachel's apartment, but the current situation is serving her rather well, particularly when she angles her hips and the heel of Rachel's palm presses into her through her soaked underwear. There's an edge of a brick or something digging into her shoulder blade, but she doesn't care.

Something in Rachel's mind makes her slow her hand, though she keeps the pressure where Quinn needs it. "Do you... I'm just wondering if... you wanted our first time to be something more... meaningful." She wouldn't say anything normally, but Quinn's kind of tipped her hand. And Rachel isn't opposed to letting this become more, but it seems like... "We're on a street in New York."

"I know where we are," Quinn mutters. Her hand, the one that's been clinging to Rachel's back, drops between her own legs and grips Rachel's wrist. "Just keep doing that." Her voice sounds huskier than usual, even to herself.

Rachel grinds her hand against Quinn and says, "What? This?"

Quinn opens her mouth to confirm, but there aren't any consonants in the words she's trying to say. Her hips respond with better accuracy and she erratically rocks against Rachel's hand.

"I can't believe this is happening," is the one thing on Rachel's mind right now. Well, that and how thoroughly soaked Quinn is. The way Quinn is moving, it's determined and relentless and... kind of needy. Rachel is the center of attention and completely in her element. And Quinn is flawless, as usual, and so very sexy. Rachel pushes against Quinn's body with her own, trying to provide extra pressure.

"You... you're..." Quinn wants to say things, right now, but it's pointless. Her hand releases Rachel's wrist and returns to it's spot on her back, keeping Rachel as close as possible as she jerks against the hand between her legs. It's all happening at once, the scent of Rachel's hair, the smell of Rachel's own arousal, the feeling of Rachel's chest against her own, and then Quinn's coming and clutching and crying out into Rachel's neck.

It's incredible, this feeling that Rachel has right now, as she holds Quinn against a brick wall and feels her coming against her hand. She stills, but continues to hold her hand against Quinn until she's positive Quinn is finished. Her hand is hot and wet between Quinn's legs, and she can smell Quinn's arousal. It's all completely surreal, and Rachel presses and open-mouthed kiss to the base of Quinn's neck.

"You're amazing, was what I was trying to say," Quinn says, once she's regained her ability to actually string words into sentences. Her head rests against Rachel's as she continues, "And you should probably take your hand out from under my skirt before we get arrested or fined or whatever it is they do for... that."

"You weren't worried about getting fined a minute ago," Rachel says, but she does as Quinn suggests. She's already crossed so many of her own personal boundaries tonight.

"I was distracted." Quinn kisses Rachel's cheek.

"Mhm." There isn't anywhere for her to wipe her hand off. It's one of those things you don't think about in the heat of the moment. She winces and rubs her hand down her thigh. "Should we... are you in the mood for coffee or...?" What is the proper etiquette for post... whatever they just did?

"If you want coffee, we can get coffee." Quinn's arms are now looped over Rachel's shoulders. Her eyes search Rachel's. "Whatever you want." This has snowballed into something she wasn't expecting, even with all the years she's spent keeping tabs on Rachel from afar and the time before then when they were finally getting close to each other. She has no idea what tomorrow will bring, but tonight... she wants tonight to be whatever Rachel wants it to be.

"Right now? I just want to be with you," Rachel admits. There was a time when she might have needed a label or some type of roadmap for the future, but right now she just wants Quinn, in whatever way she can have her.


	5. Stop Messin' Round

**Stop Messin' Round**

* * *

**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

* * *

It's after two by the time they're back at Rachel's apartment building and stealing kisses in the elevator. They've circled a total of about about thirty blocks in the time they've been out and Quinn has a feeling Rachel just wants to relax.

Staying overnight wasn't really in Quinn's plan for the evening, it still isn't. She has plenty of reasons to be home before morning arrives. Merman's one of them. But she also doesn't want to leave. The next train to New Haven isn't even until after five, anyway.

Shit. That's kind of a problem. Maybe she can take a cab.

She feels guilty for thinking about all of this, right now, while Rachel's wrapped around her, pressing kisses to her neck. It's all just moving so quickly and it's more than she expected to happen.

The elevator dings and the door slides open.

"Let's hope Lydia's called it a night," she says, letting Rachel pull her down the hallway.

They're in luck. The chair is no longer wedged under the doorknob, and Rachel lets them into her apartment. Lydia is nowhere to be seen.

"Thank you for tonight," Rachel whispers and leads Quinn down the hall. "Though I am sorry we got locked out."

"Was kind of worth it, wasn't it?" Quinn asks, staying so close to Rachel as the bedroom door opens that they almost tumble into the space.

Quinn Fabray is in Rachel's bedroom in the middle of the night with her arms wrapped around Rachel and her breath on Rachel's neck. She gets enough space to shrug out of her jacket and drape it over her chair before tugging Quinn into bed. Her bed.

"Mmmm," she says, nuzzling Quinn's neck. "Completely worth it."

Rachel appears to be comfortable, but Quinn's still in her boots. She untangles herself from Rachel and sits up to tug them off, letting them fall to the floor with a double thunk. Rachel's shoes are next, then she's back to lying down with Rachel.

"I had an amazing night," she says.

"You did? Amazing?" Rachel is sleepy and happy and wrapped around Quinn. It's the best she's felt in a long time.

"Mmhmm." Quinn kisses the side of Rachel's head and allows herself to just lie there. She knows she needs to say she can't spend the night but she doesn't want to ruin the moment. She also can't remember the last time she was this relaxed.

Normally, she has serious difficulty sleeping. It doesn't come easily to her, it hasn't in years. But when she opens her eyes again, the clock says four twenty-seven.

If she leaves right now, she can get home before seven. Rachel's still sound asleep, but she's shifted so that Quinn just has to gently raise up an arm before slipping out of the bed. She should wake her up and say something, but then she's going to have to explain and she really doesn't have time for that. If she can find a piece of paper, maybe she can leave a note.

Rachel's room is dark, but there's enough light from the city outside for Quinn to make out the basic layout. There's a desk in the corner, but if we wants to leave on time, she can't rummage around for what she needs.

She can text her. She'll send a text message saying she had to go home and they'll talk later. Her boots are next to the bed and her purse is on the back of the desk chair. She carefully grabs one of the boots and pulls it on, and when she reaches down for the other, she happens to look over at the bed.

Rachel's awake and staring right at her.

She doesn't say anything right away. She can't. Quinn is sneaking out of her apartment in the middle of the night with no explanation and, frankly, Rachel's not sure she'd want to hear it if she had one.

"It's just as well that you're getting your things," she finally says. And then, "I just can't believe that you'd put in all that effort to make me feel like you actually wanted more. You could have just been up front with me and told me the truth."

"No, Rachel... I..." Quinn can almost feel the chill coming of the glare she's getting, even in the dark. "I didn't want to wake you up and I... I was going to write a note, but..." None of this is sounding good. In fact, it all sounds terrible as she hears it coming out of her mouth.

She shouldn't have even let things get this far, because now she's trying to explain herself and Rachel's already upset and it's pointless.

She should have just stayed in New Haven.

Rachel sets her jaw. "Fuck your note, Quinn. You could have just said that you only wanted tonight, and I would have been fine with that. I didn't expect anything from you and then you started talking about how you wanted more and... I don't need anything from you. You got what you wanted, and now you can get out."

Quinn can stay and argue with Rachel, or she can leave and catch a cab and go home. Maybe if she just lets Rachel cool off a little about this whole thing, she can try to make it up to her later. If she chooses to acknowledge Quinn's existence.

Really, Quinn wouldn't blame her if she doesn't.

"Fine." She manages to get her second boot on her foot and then moves for the door. Before she exits the room, she says, "I'm sorry."

"Right," Rachel mumbles and when she hears the door catch, she drops back to her pillow. It shouldn't hurt this much, a one night stand, but somehow it does.

Quinn's out on the sidewalk, about to hail a cab, when she realizes her purse is still up in Rachel's bedroom, and her phone is still in the side pocket.

She has to wait half an hour before someone comes out of the building before she can catch the door and slip back inside. Even then, she spends another hour sitting outside Rachel's apartment, with no idea what time Rachel gets up for work or if she even works today. Chances are, she's more likely to encounter Lydia or one of the other roommates, than Rachel.

She's still sitting there when Rachel leaves for work at the diner.

"Have you seriously been sitting outside my apartment all night?" Rachel slings her bag over her shoulder and locks the deadbolt. "I'd ask what is wrong with you, but I don't really care what this is about, Quinn. I have to go to work."

It's very much her intention to leave Quinn in the hallway, and she's halfway to the elevator.

It's always been a knack of Rachel's to manage a perfect storm out, despite whatever wardrobe is in play. In this case, it's a traditional 50's waitress outfit, no doubt due to the overall theme of the singing diner where she works. Some part of Quinn will be amused by this later, but for now, there's something more pressing.

"I can't leave." It's enough to at least get Rachel to stop walking, but Quinn isn't graced with the pleasure of having her actually turn around. She just needs her purse and then maybe she can make it to the subway or something before... well, even then, she's cutting it close. Given what's already happened, maybe she should just be honest. "I can't leave once the sun's up."

That turns Rachel around, at least. Instead of responding verbally, she crosses her arms over her chest and waits. When Quinn just looks at her, she nearly loses her temper. "What the hell are you talking about?" She finally asks.

"I..." This sounds so stupid, so contrived now that she's said it out loud. "Something happened to me, a few years ago, and I can't go out in the sun." Quinn debates closing the space between them to try and plead her case, but there's also a risk of Rachel just full on punching her, so she stays where she is.

Rachel tilts her head and squints her eyes like it will somehow help her understand what Quinn is talking about. She really doesn't have time for this. "What, like... an allergy?"

Quinn runs a hand through her hair. "Well... yeah, kind of." Her hand drops back to her side as she reconsiders her answer. "Actually, no. It's... bigger than that. Like... fatal."

How could some fatal diagnosis force Quinn to sneak out of her room in the middle of the night? "I don't understand. If you go into the sun, you'll die? How is that even possible?"

Quinn doesn't want to say it, because she knows it sounds like complete bullshit. But there's really no turning back, now.

"Because I'm a vampire." She whispers the last word because she doesn't need the whole building to know.

Any sympathy Rachel might have felt for Quinn vanishes instantly. Her eyes narrow and fill with tears. "You are really unbelievable." She squares her shoulders. "I don't care if you turn into dust in the sunlight, and I don't care where you go. You'd just better not be _here_ when I get home."

Maybe she'll be lucky and she won't cry until the elevator doors shut behind her.

Quinn's still stuck.

She finally gives in and tries to pick the lock to the apartment, but it's a deadbolt. The next step is knocking, which means waking someone up. Whatever, it's not like she's going to see any of these people again.

She pounds on the door until a woman she assumes is Lydia opens it and looks at her. "Hey, I was here with Rachel last night and I left my-"

Lydia doesn't really wait for the rest of the story, she just lets Quinn in and suddenly Quinn's worried about Rachel's safety if her roommates just let anyone in without any validation. She's left alone as Lydia disappears back into her own room. Rachel's bedroom door is locked, but it's much easier to pick, so Quinn's inside within a minute and she spots her purse on the back of the desk chair, right where she left it.

Except now it's almost seven and there's absolutely no way she's getting anywhere.

She knows Rachel's going to hate her whenever she gets back, but maybe she goes straight from work to lessons to rehearsal and won't be back until after dark, which will give Quinn time to slip out and Rachel will never know. She picks up a worn copy of Les Miserables from Rachel's bookshelf and wedges herself in the closet, sitting against a rack of shoes and a stack of playbills.

This is an absolute disaster.

Rachel's day is awful. She misses her first bus and sits next to a screaming baby on the second. By the time she finally gets to work, she's fifteen minutes late, and her boss is throwing an apron in her face. Apparently, one of the other girls quit by texting him ten minutes before her shift and now Rachel has five additional tables to wait today.

Perfect.

She can't even look forward to taking a bath when she gets home because she has a lesson and then rehearsal afterward. She'll be lucky to get dinner.

Quinn's managed to drift off in Rachel's closet, jerking awake when she hears the key in the lock to the bedroom. She glances at the window and notes that it's still daylight outside.

It's come to something out of ET, with her hiding in Rachel's closet, hoping she isn't caught.

Rachel has ten minutes until her student arrives to change her clothes and get something to eat. She shuts her door behind her, drops her uniform to the floor and pulls up open her closet door.

Quinn was supposed to have been gone, but she isn't. She's in Rachel's closet, scaring the hell out of her after the worst day she's had in a long time.

She stumbles backward and crosses her arms in front of her, trying to protect herself as best she can. Until she realizes that it's Quinn.

Once it dawns on her that it's _Quinn_ hiding in her closet, she advances and pulls Quinn up by the shirt. "What the _hell_?" is the only thing she can say right now.

Quinn knows how this must look. God, if it were her, she'd be filing for a restraining order, already. Maybe that's what she should say instead of what she actually says, which is, "I was hoping to be gone before you got back."

She eyes the window, which is lit by sunlight, but there's only a small sliver actually reaching into the room, so she's fine unless Rachel drags her seven feet toward the opposite wall.

Rachel laughs harshly. "You must think I'm exceptionally stupid, Quinn, to expect me to buy into this vampire bullshit." It's not a word she normally employs, bullshit, but she can't think of another that would accurately describe what Quinn is putting her through right now. "What is this about? Did you stay to go through my things?" Something awful occurs to her, and she narrows her eyes. "Is this about Beth? Because I can promise you that Shelby and I don't speak much any more, and I don't even know where they are."

Given everything they shared the night before, the look on Rachel's face is making Quinn feel sick.

"It's not that, nothing like that. I swear." She knows her words mean nothing, but she can't just leave, either.

Rachel has had enough of this, and she finally makes a decision. "You know what? If you want to keep this up, that's fine. I have a student coming here in a few minutes, and I don't have time for this. Since you can't just admit what it is you're really doing here, you're not leaving me any other choice." She tugs on Quinn's collar, hard, and pulls her out of the closet and toward the light she'd caught Quinn eyeing earlier. "If you're a vampire, Quinn Fabray, _show me_," she says and shoves Quinn into the light.

There's really only enough sun peeking between the buildings to catch Quinn's right arm and the side of her face, but it's enough to give her an immediate sunburn where the light's touched her before she shies away from it and winces as she leans against the bedroom wall.

She knows Rachel is doing exactly what anyone else would do, but the fact that there's absolutely no trust between them makes Quinn wish she would just spontaneously combust and be done with it.

Rachel can only stare. She's seen Quinn's skin turn red and she still doesn't believe it, because any amount of stage makeup or special effects are more believable that what Quinn is telling her. She takes a tentative step forward and lifts a hand. Gently.

It's not only red, it's warm to the touch. Much warmer than the rest of her skin.

"You're... but... how?"

"My own bad luck, I guess." Quinn stares at the spot where Rachel's touched her arm. "I didn't know how to tell you. And I didn't expect us to..." She's not answering the question. "It's unreal, I know. When it happened, I didn't even believe it, at first."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "I meant, how is this even possible, Quinn? People aren't just vampires. This isn't some gothic novel we're living in."

"I know it isn't!" Quinn definitely knows how absurd it is. "But that doesn't change the fact that this happened to me and now I can't be out in the sun and I don't really sleep and I have to..." Maybe it's too early to drop the next bomb, even though it's an obvious one.

Rachel is spared from having to discuss Quinn's dietary endeavors when she hears her student knocking on the door.

"I have a lesson," she says. "You can stay here until the sun goes down." She'd like for Quinn to stay longer- they obviously have some things to discuss, but she's not going to ask for that. Quinn doesn't owe her anything, and she really has no idea how to feel about all of this anyway. She leaves Quinn in her room and pulls the door shut behind her.

Despite having just spent hours in Rachel's closet, Quinn's exhausted. She sits on the floor, because making herself comfortable on the bed just feels awkward, at this point.

She sends a text to Feldman, the neighbor kid, to check in on Merman. The dog will be fine because he's out in the yard with plenty of water, he just needs to be fed.

Rachel is distracted her entire lesson. She can't cut it short- Casey paid for the full hour, and he's been working so hard the past few weeks. They're in the fourth bedroom- where Rachel has a keyboard that her dads got her for graduation- and Rachel can't stop looking at the door. She can't see the living room from here, and Quinn would have to walk through it to get out.

When the lesson is over, Rachel sees Casey to the door with homework for the next week and then pushes her bedroom door open to get her things before rehearsal.

Quinn's lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling, trying to give the illusion that she was attempting a nap, instead of listening to the voice lesson.

"Oh," Rachel does her best to sound surprised. "I thought you'd be gone." She shifts her weight and tries not to ask every single question that's been in the front of her mind for the past hour. "I... have rehearsal, but... if you'd like to walk me...?"

"I wouldn't feel right just leaving without saying anything." The sun is low in the sky by now, but it's still out, so Quinn isn't comfortable with going, just yet. "I could probably use another half an hour. Do you... have to leave right away?"

"Believe me, Quinn, there isn't anything I'd rather do than stay here tonight and talk about how you're a..." She tucks her hair behind her ear. It's not an easy word to say. She's not even sure that she believes it. There are a lot of medical explanations why Quinn would burn in the tiniest amount of sunlight. "I'm already going to be late, and opening night is in a few weeks."

There's no guarantee that she'll see Quinn again. This might be it for them, and the things that she felt last night- Her fathers taught her to stand up for herself, but they also raised her to be accepting. "I have to go. But... I still don't know if I completely believe this whole vampire story, but you obviously have something you're dealing with, and I know how it can be lonely sometimes, handling things on your own. If you wanted to... I would be okay with seeing you again."

Quinn doesn't expect Rachel to just drop everything and talk about this, but it still stings when she says she has to go. "I know it doesn't seem real and..." she shrugs. "I really would like to see you, again."

Rachel smiles at that, in spite of everything. "Well, you have my number," she says and leaves Quinn alone in her room once more.

In the remaining time Quinn spends in Rachel's room, she decides to write a note of further apology, for trying to leave without waking her up, for not mentioning all of this sooner, for hiding in the closet and scaring the crap out of her. She leaves it on top of Rachel's computer, then collects her purse and cell phone before heading out into the dusk to catch a train back to New Haven.

She doesn't think she's ever felt more alone in the middle of Grand Central Station that she does right now.


	6. When the Sun Goes Down

**When the Sun Goes Down**

* * *

**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

* * *

Quinn finally gets home just after nine and Merman's waiting at the gate, making that sounds he makes that's somewhere between a whine and a bark. It's like he's talking to her, but she never quite knows what he's saying.

Although, right now, it's pretty obvious that he's glad she's home.

"Hey, buddy." She kneels down and rubs his head, but stands back up the second he tries to lick her face. He's great company but she's never been big on dog slobber.

Once the dog's fed, she sheds her clothes and takes a shower, because it's been a very long twenty-four hours. Well, the first eight or so were just about perfect. The rest, however...

It's too early for Rachel to be back from rehearsal, so there's no point in waiting on a call or a text saying Rachel got her note. She doesn't even think she'll hear from Rachel tonight. Or tomorrow. Or ever.

Though, Rachel said she wanted to see her again.

But still, Quinn knows things aren't going to be like they were. How could they? She's a... monster or something. And while her experience hasn't been exactly the same as she's read in Anne Rice novels or seen on HBO, she's definitely exhibiting particular traits and behaviors that aren't normal, at least not for regular human people.

The daylight thing is really just inconvenient.

Some of the other stuff... Quinn isn't even sure if Rachel will be able to stomach it, let alone kiss her, ever again.

She slips into a pair of pajama pants and a very broken-in Yale hoodie before she deposits herself in front of the couch and turns on the television. There's no way she's working on fucking ugly country craft bullshit tonight.

The more Rachel tries to ignore what happened with Quinn, the harder it is to focus on rehearsal. Though, to be fair, she's never had this level of energy during the "I just want to hit something" scene, and even Kelsey seems pleased with rehearsal for once.

She's torn between wanting it to be over and wanting to talk to Quinn.

When she finally gets home, she's decided to call Quinn, even though she's exhausted, but then she gets Quinn's note.

"I'm sorry I didn't just wake you up before I left and I'm really sorry I snuck back in and scared the crap out of you. I hope rehearsal went well and maybe we can talk about all this later?"

It's sweet, if anything, but suddenly all Rachel can think about is hearing Quinn answer the phone and Rachel blurting something like, "why didn't you bite me or kill me or suck my blood?" and she's sure that that's the last thing that Quinn needs right now.

She drops her phone on the dresser and heads into the bathroom to run a bath. It's too late to take one, really, and she'll be dead tomorrow- there's a phrase that makes her wince, after hearing Quinn's news- but she needs to relax and she doesn't know what else to do. She wouldn't be able to fall asleep anyway.

Quinn's in the middle of a Chelsea Lately marathon and, normally, this would qualify as being a pretty good night, but she can't even focus on whatever brilliant burn is happening, right now. All she can think about is Rachel.

Her fingers tap along the edge of her cell phone, as if they're contemplating making a call on their own. She left it up to Rachel, though, to contact her. That's what seems right. Otherwise it's going to come off as needy and she probably needs to give Rachel as much space as possible, given all the breaking and entering that occurred earlier.

Somehow, though, she finds herself typing out a single text message, one that just says, "Made it home. Merman says hi." And then she's sending it before she can stop herself.

When Rachel gets out of the tub, Quinn's message is waiting for her. The desire to talk about this is stronger than ever, but so is the feeling of total awkwardness. Shes not ready. still, it's not fair to completely ignore Quinn.

She texts back, "Thank you for letting me know," and sends it. It's possible that she's coming off as cold, so she writes another immediately that says, "Give Merman a kiss for me," before backing it out and sending, "Tell him hello," instead.

She's second guessing everything lately.

Quinn knows it's all small talk and that there really isn't any point in pressing for anything. She's relieved, though, that Rachel replies at all. Her fingers type out, "Goodnight, Rachel," and she's willing to leave it at that, for now.

Rachel smiles, in spite of herself, and replies with a simple, "Goodnight, Quinn."

She lays in bed for a solid hour before she gets up and gets on her elliptical.

Sometime around midnight, Quinn's fully abandoned the television in favor of her laptop. The tv's still on, but the volume is all the way down. She's really just left it on for Merman who seems to like to look at the movement on the screen.

When Quinn logs into her Gmail account, she sees that Rachel's logged on. Against what should probably be her better judgement, she opens the chat box and types, "Merman can't sleep."

Rachel has her Nalgene bottle tipped up when the chime sounds on her computer that she has an incoming message, and she dribbles water down the front of her tank top. No one ever instant messages her, and she has a feeling she knows exactly who it is.

She's right.

"You should try heating up some warm milk for him. I've heard that dogs can't help but go to sleep after drinking it," she types back. She wipes the back of her neck off with a hand towel while she waits for a reply.

Quinn has the computer balanced on her legs as she leans back against the arm of the couch. "I don't even remember the last time I bought milk," she replies. "He's picky, anyway. He'd probably dump the bowl over and collapse in the corner in a huff. You'd like him, he's dramatic."

"I could make some predictable remark about how shocking it is that you would liken me to a dog and even throw in the full use of your name for dramatic flair, but I've come a long way since high school. Okay, so no milk." Rachel hits enter and then thinks how to tactfully ask her next question. She finally settles on, "I'm sorry. I don't know how to talk to you right now without sounding insensitive or nosy or..."

"I know you have questions. It's okay. You can ask." Quinn's been thinking about this ever since she left the city. Whatever Rachel wants to know, Quinn's willing to tell her. Rachel has always been one of very few people who actually made an effort to understand her, back before her life became even more increasingly complicated.

"Okay." The time on Rachel's computer changes two minutes before she types again. "Is there anything that's... off limits?"

Quinn wants to say no, but she knows herself so she replies with, "Probably. But I want to be as open as possible."

"Not very helpful, Quinn."

"I'm just being honest, Rachel!"

"Okay. So... do you really not sleep at all? Or is it just a few hours a night?" Rachel figures she'll start with something small.

Honestly, Quinn's relieved that Rachel started with something simple. "I sleep. But it's not the same, not like I need it. At least not as much. And it's just about always during the day."

Rachel bites her lip. "Is that because of the sun or is your cycle just nocturnal now?"

There's a moment of contemplation, because Quinn hasn't really tried to determine anything other than the obvious specifics of why she'd rather be awake at night than during the day. "Both, I guess."

"Okay, and... I'm not really sure how to ask this next question, but I have to know, since you used the word, 'vampire.' Do you..." Rachel hits enter and forces herself to breathe. "Are you really going to make me say the actual words?"

So much for the simple questions. Quinn drums her fingers on the keys for a minute before responding with, "I have to... sustain myself, yeah." She hopes it's clear enough, because she remembers how, back during their freshman year, she suddenly had a craving for a cheeseburger, medium-rare, and Rachel tried to talk her out of it for, like, twenty minutes.

"But... you can do that with animals, right?" Her daddy watched _Interview with the Vampire_ with her the summer after her junior year of high school, and she knows that- at least in the fiction world- vampires can live off of animals. It's not ideal. Rachel would prefer that Quinn didn't _sustain_ herself with living things at all, but animals are better than... well, than the alternative.

There's no easy way to answer the question, because any answer Quinn gives is going to devastate some part of Rachel. "I... guess? I've actually never tried that." The idea actually makes her squirm and it's almost as if Merman knows the conversation she's having, because he lifts his head up and tilts it. She just waves her hand at him, as if to suggest he go back to watching television, and continues to type. "This part's more complicated and... I want to tell you anything you want to know... I just haven't ever had to explain it to anyone."

Like, should she go into detail about how, sometimes, she answers Craigslist ads posted by vampire enthusiasts who get off on the idea of someone actually feeding on them? It's a situation that ultimately creeps her out and she never visits the same individual more than once, but it's also a way to get what she needs without... well... any fatalities.

Or should she talk about those, too? As in, on occasion, she's taken to watching people, a la Dexter, and zeroes in on those who abuse power and take advantage of people. People like frat boys who bring GHB to parties. Or thugs who lurk in New York alleyways with a brick in hand as they wait to bash someone's head in for an iPhone.

Quinn knows Rachel isn't ready to hear that her MetroCard never left her purse while they were out that night, at the diner.

"You don't _have_ to explain it to me," Rachel types. She leans back and stretches, which gives her time to think about what to say next. "So... this is real? You really actually drink..." No, that's too much, too soon. "The sun thing isn't just an allergy? I've seen enough movies to not really know what to think right now."

Like, is Quinn undead? Does she have a soul? Is Rachel in danger being alone with her? Memories of their time together flash through her mind, and she remembers how strong Quinn was, holding her against the door. Strong and hungry. She actually _took_ Rachel, and while it was incredibly thrilling, Rachel wonders if she wasn't putting herself in danger that night.

It's still not something Rachel is comfortable with. People don't actually turn into vampires in real life.

"When it first happened, I didn't believe it was real and I just went outside. I ended up with what felt like... I guess, severe radiation poisoning. Everything hurt, I could barely move, I was blistered up pretty badly." The memory still makes Quinn shudder. "It took a week for everything to heal."

Her first week as a vampire, and she was cooped up in someone else's house, a captive audience to a story she was never ready to hear.

"How long have you been- I mean, when did it happen?"

"The summer after graduation." Quinn leans her head back against the arm of the sofa and closes her eyes, recalling that period of her life. She was excited, she was a Yale graduate, she had plans. She was actually, for once, ready to take on life and show the world just what Quinn Fabray could do, when left to her own devices.

"Oh, Quinn," Rachel types, and hopes that Quinn can tell how sorry she is.

No matter how she tries to be accepting of this, she can't get past the fact that /Quinn Fabray/ might actually /kill/ people. It's just... not something she even thought possible.

Her thoughts are enough to push her back into action- any action- which in this case is cleaning up after her workout.

"I know it's a lot," Quinn types. "And I don't really understand parts of it, myself. But I'm also still me." As much as she still can be, anyway.

Rachel frowns, when she comes back to her computer and sees what Quinn's written. "No, I just meant... You didn't even get to try anything. You'd only just graduated."

It breaks Rachel's heart.

The fact that Rachel's empathetic toward her situation makes Quinn feel like maybe this isn't going to crumble into complete disaster. "At least it gave me a chance to realize my dream of a moderately lucrative country craft business." She's not an optimist, by any means, but she knows she's made the best out of the worst possible hand life, or un-life, could have given her.

"It's important to stay positive," Rachel agrees. "Can I ask... how did it happen? I mean, is it contractible through fluids like the HIV virus or..." This is a touchy subject and Rachel has no idea how to navigate it.

Quinn's stomach sinks at the question, because she knows Rachel must be wondering if she was ever in any kind of danger of being turned or... worse. "It's not highly communicable, if that's what you're asking. I've never... given it to anyone." She sends the message, then quickly types out another. "Your life was never in danger, Rachel. I promise."

Rachel can't type back that the thought never crossed her mind- not truthfully, anyway.

"I believe you," is what she sends back. She's in clean clothes now and climbs into bed, curling herself around her computer. She really wants to hear Quinn's voice, but she still feels like it's still too soon. "Did you know Merman before everything changed? I'm just asking because I've heard that animals can really sense when something with their owner is... off."

"No. I was already like this. He's always been friendly toward me." Actually, Merman's probably the only friend Quinn's made who doesn't care about what she's become. As much as she's invited conversation about herself, she needs a break from it. "How come you're still up? Don't you have to work tomorrow?"

"I couldn't sleep," Rachel immediately sends back. She doesn't even think about lying or covering it up. "I've been worried about you."

It makes Quinn laugh that, though all of this, Rachel's concerned about _her_. "I'm okay. I'm just... I've been doing this for a little while now and I just have to live with it. Mostly, I feel terrible about not telling you before we... I shouldn't have let things get that far."

"That's true." There's no reason to sugar coat things. Quinn has always preferred directness and honesty, anyway. "You should have told me. But that doesn't mean that I can't be concerned about you."

"I'm actually curious to know what it is you're worried about."

"Well, I mean, after all this time, I find out that you have this life-altering condition, and you're handling it all on your own."

Leave it to Rachel to make it sound like Quinn has a terminal illness. "I'm used to it. I've kind of always done things that way."

"Well, you can do things that way if you're dead set on it, but you should know that you're not alone, and you don't have to be alone."

"Thanks. That means a lot. I honestly wasn't sure if you'd ever want to speak to me, again." Quinn isn't even sure if she should bring that up, but if it's honesty hour, she might as well lay it out there.

Rachel sighs and then types, "Well, I guess it just goes to show that having an ivy league degree does not make a person a genius."

"That was mean." Quinn can take it. She's actually amused at the jab.

"Good," Rachel types. "I have a lot more questions, but I do have to get up really early tomorrow... Is it okay with you if we call it a night?"

"Of course," Quinn knows Rachel works early and she already feels guilty for the reasons that are keeping her up. "You can ask me anything, anytime. Okay?"

"That goes both ways. You can tell me anything, anytime." It takes her almost a full minute to hit enter, but when she does and then follows it up with a quick, "goodnight, Quinn," she can't help but smile to herself. It's the same one she falls asleep with.

"Night, Rachel," Quinn sends, before logging out of gchat and closing her computer. Merman looks up at her from his spot on the floor.

"C'mere, buddy," she says, patting the couch cushion. She feels like she needs a hug and a goofy dog knocking his head into her ribcage is just going to have to do, for now.


	7. One Sunny Day

**One Sunny Day**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

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"_Don't know if you're at work or not but I have an emergency. Merman must've eaten something he shouldn't have. He's been really sick and I can't get him to the vet. The kid across the street isn't home and I don't really have anyone else to call. I hate to spring this on you but I could really use some help." _

Rachel _is_ at work. She's waiting tables and she doesn't see the message until her break, but the moment she sees it, she's sending a reply that says she'll get there as soon as possible. She never misses work. Ever. So an emergency actually seems like a real emergency when she explains it to her boss, not to mention, she has plenty of sick time she's never used.

She catches a cab and gives the address Quinn texted. It takes her just under an hour to get there, and the first thing she thinks when she sees Quinn's house is _this is so perfect for her_. She pays and then she's at Quinn's door, ringing the doorbell, standing on her porch in her 1950's waitress outfit as if she's some kind of early trick-or-treater.

It doesn't occur to her how horribly awkward this situation could be until it's too late.

Quinn's been impatiently waiting for Rachel, pacing between the house and the garage for the last hour, so the second she hears the doorbell, she runs down the hall and yanks open the door.

"Thank you," is the first thing out of her mouth. "He's in the car, already. Um, in the garage. He's been sick all morning and I think he got into some of the stuff I use for gardening." Maybe later, she can explain how she's developed something of a green thumb, even if she has to do her work at night. "The vet knows you're coming. It's not even that far, just a few blocks. When Feldman takes him for his check-ups, he usually just walks Merman down there. I just... can't. I lifted him into the back of the car, so you'll need to get someone to help you when you get there."

She doesn't have Rachel by the hand, but it almost feels like it, with the way Rachel's trailing so closely behind her, through the hall, into the kitchen to the door that leads out to the garage.

The walkway between the garage and the house is covered, but that doesn't prevent the wave of nausea Quinn feels every time she makes the trip from building to building in the middle of the day.

Quinn's car is a restored green 1961 Rambler station wagon, that was once the pride and joy of a neighbor from up the street, until he and his wife divorced last year and it was put up for sale at a very reasonable price that Quinn couldn't resist. The back of the wagon is open and Merman is visible from the service porch where Quinn's standing with Rachel.

"It's going to be fine, Quinn. I'll put it into my GPS, I'll text you when I they tell me what's going on with him." When Quinn presses the keys into Rachel's hand, Rachel impetuously reaches out and pulls her into a hug. "It will be okay."

Quinn's been telling herself the same thing all morning, but coming out of Rachel's mouth makes it sound like an actual possibility. "Thank you," she says, again. "And, it's literally three blocks up and one to the right." Later, maybe she'll have it on her to laugh at Rachel's need to still program the GPS.

Rachel shoots Quinn a look. "There's nothing wrong with being prepared, Quinn."

She hasn't driven a vehicle in years, and she hopes Quinn doesn't notice how white her knuckles are as she backs the car out of the garage. She's one block away from the vet's office when she sits up higher so she can see Merman in the rearview mirror. "I have no idea why a person in your mother's condition wouldn't invest in tinted windows in their car," she tells him.

The clinic is exactly where Quinn said it would be, but Rachel is still proud of her foresight to enter it into her GPS. You never know when something unexpected could happen. She has a technician help her carry Merman into an exam room, and then she texts Quinn with one hand while she scratches Merman's ears with the other.

"_We made it and we're waiting on the vet to see him. I'll let you know as soon as I can."_

She wishes she could do more to comfort Quinn, but she supposes that being here when Quinn couldn't is just as good, if not better, than having more comforting words to offer. Especially for someone like Quinn.

Quinn's a mess. She knows it shows, too. In addition to already looking pale and tragic because she hasn't eaten since she last saw Rachel, she hasn't worried like this over anyone in years.

It's sixteen minutes from when Rachel leaves the driveway until Quinn gets the text and she's already pacing the living room.

She sends back a response. _"How is he? Did he get sick in the car? He's not giving you any trouble, is he?"_

There's the realization, in all of this, that Quinn has no idea if Rachel even _likes_ dogs or not.

Another half an hour goes by, and Rachel still doesn't have any information other than _He did get sick in the car- I'm so sorry!_ and _They're examining him now_. At one point, Merman perks up enough to thump his tail on the table, and Rachel fires off a picture, because it's better than complete silence while Quinn is stuck at home, worrying.

The picture message is enough to draw a small, but sad, smile out of Quinn.

_"He gets carsick. That's why Feldman walks with him. So, don't worry, he probably would have puked, anyway." _Then she adds, _"Should have warned you. Sorry! :("_

By the time Rachel has news, she doesn't want to send it. "_Whatever they gave him stopped the vomiting, but the doctor says that they need to keep him overnight. Would you like me to stay here with him until rehearsal?"_ Luckily, she doesn't have a lesson today.

Quinn was prepared for the possibility that Merman may need to stay for observation. She didn't expect Rachel to volunteer to stay with him. The vet will want to keep him in the back kennel with the other animals, so she knows there's no need for Rachel to stay. _"It's okay. I don't know that they'd let you, anyway."_

"_I don't really know how it works,"_ Rachel admits, and then sends another that says, _"I'll bring your car back. Be there very soon."_

Quinn busies herself with washing the snap peas that have been sitting on the counter since she picked them last night. Usually, she just gives the produce to Feldman, who passes the goods along to his mother, but it might be nice to offer Rachel something for her trouble, along with a reimbursement for the cab.

Plus, this is giving her something to do instead of just worrying about her poor dog. She feels selfish for even keeping him when she's in such a state that she can't even care for him when he needs this kind of help.

Rachel pulls the station wagon into Quinn's garage and lets herself into the house. Normally, she would knock, but after everything, she just wants to make sure that Quinn is okay.

Quinn is at the sink, washing vegetables, and Rachel clears her throat softly, just in case Quinn didn't hear the garage door. She has no idea if- well, if people in Quinn's condition have extraordinary hearing or heightened senses or what.

"Hey, um, I thought maybe you'd want some of this..." Quinn shuts off the water and dries her hands on a nearby dish towel as she turns around. There's a small wooden crate on the counter that's loaded with things from the garden. "It's just some snap peas and tomatoes, a couple of summer squash, some basil, and," she peers into the box, again, to recall what else she may have packed. "Uh, more tomatoes. I know the fresh stuff is probably expensive in the city, so I thought you could..."

"Quinn, this is... really amazing." Basil is Rachel's favorite, and the rest of it just looks really wonderful. "I would love some."

"Well, it's all yours," Quinn says. "Merman only likes chicken and rice and I... well, I don't really do salads, anymore."

Rachel can't help her smile, because of Quinn's thoughtfulness. "Thank you," she says. She's not really sure if she should just take it and go or Quinn wants her to stay, and there's a very long, very awkward pause before Rachel just kind of leans against the kitchen counter. "He really only eats chicken and rice?"

Quinn shrugs. "In kibble form, anyway. I told you, he's picky." But that immediately reminds her of why Rachel's even there. "Did it seem like he's going to be okay?"

"I think so, yes. The technician seemed really hopeful, and they stopped the vomiting. I'm sure he'll be fine, Quinn."

"Okay," Quinn says, as she nods slowly. "Um, did you want to stay for a little while?"

"Can I?" Rachel asks. She hadn't wanted to intrude, but she really would like to stay.

"Yeah. I'd... really appreciate it." Quinn shuffles toward the table and gestures for Rachel to sit down.

Rachel sits and fiddles with a snap pea for a minute before she asks, "What is it exactly that you need, Quinn?"

"I..." Quinn isn't sure if Rachel's referring to the Merman situation or general or what she needs to survive because she doesn't eat her own garden vegetables. "Need for what?"

"Your... emotional well-being?" How can Rachel explain what she's really asking if she isn't even sure herself? All she really knows right now is that she still has a million questions and she wants to make Quinn feel better.

"Oh. Usually, I take out my primary aggression on some fugly wooden cutouts of bears and geese. A good round of tug-o-war with Merman helps, too. I grow stuff because at least I'm... giving back or something." Quinn knows this really isn't want Rachel means. "Right now it's... just really nice to have someone here to talk to. It's been a long time since I've even had anyone over, other than the neighbor kid. And I catch him staring at my ass, half the time."

Rachel can feel the heat in her cheeks. "Well, I can promise not to stare at your ass."

"I don't think I can make the same promise, actually." Quinn feels a little better, even if it's only for a moment as she watches the pink tinge creep across Rachel's face.

Rachel looks up abruptly. "Excuse me?" It's still a little difficult to interpret Quinn's tone sometimes, and she's not even sure she heard correctly. Quinn's smirk makes her face burn hotter.

"Nothing," Quinn says, still smirking. She considers that it's probably good that there's a table between them, though it's not like that really made a difference last time. And, she has no idea if Rachel even wants anything like that from her, now.

It's clear that Quinn is screwing with her, and Rachel tries to recover the best she can. "You never were able to control yourself." She winces, because for all she knows, Quinn is controlling herself intensely every single time they interact. It's not something they've discussed, how Quinn gets nourishment, and she's assured Rachel that she was never in danger, but that doesn't mean that Quinn isn't currently showing tremendous restraint just to sit at this table with her. After all, she looks like she hasn't rested in days and her skin is extremely pale, even for her. Rachel ducks her head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be... I know you didn't mean anything by it." Quinn reaches across the finished table top and puts her hand on Rachel's.

Two things register in Rachel's mind immediately: she feels something indescribable whenever Quinn touches her and- "Oh my god, you're _freezing_. Like, really freezing, Quinn. You're like..." She wants to say 'like ice,' but it seems extreme. "This can't be normal."

"We both know that's not a word that particularly describes me." Quinn retracts her hand and rests it on the table in front of her. She doesn't want to make Rachel uncomfortable. "I get like this when I haven't eaten after a few days."

Rachel can feel her eyes go wide. "When you haven't..."

It's the first time Quinn has really spoken about this aspect of her situation, and Rachel isn't sure she can handle it. She especially doesn't like hearing it called 'eating.' She reminds herself silently that Quinn didn't ask for this and that she's doing the best she can.

So much for avoiding discomfort.

"Jigsaw puzzles." It's out of the blue, probably, for Rachel. But to Quinn, it's an addition to her list of things she uses to cope with her state of existence. "I also do a lot of puzzles. Usually between the crafting and wrestling with the dog."

They'll come back to Quinn's hobbies in a minute. There's no reason to change the subject when it's something this important just because Quinn thinks that it might be upsetting. "If you're hungry, and you can't go out, what do you do? I mean, is there some way I can help?"

Not eating for a few _days_ is inexcusable, not to mention completely irresponsible and just plain unhealthy, regardless of what the food source actually is, and Rachel has half a mind to tell Quinn so. "Quinn. You need to eat."

Quinn actually laughs. Not hard, but a chuckle works it's way out of her mouth and she says, "This isn't like I'm dodging meals because I'm trying to make one of Sue's weigh-ins. I can go about a week between-" feedings is definitely not the right word to use, in this context, "meals without it being a real problem. The first thing to go is always body temperature, then color. I could probably go another three days before I started to really feel hungry."

As gross as the thought is to Rachel, she can't deny that it's also fascinating. "Do you actually _feel_ hungry?"

Quinn nods, then pauses. "Yeah, but then it's also different than just a general desire to eat. It's more like a full body sensation. A lot of things are like that, now. Feelings that were once very specific are now merged with... everything else." She thinks about that first night with Rachel, when they were up against that building and she _wanted_ Rachel so badly that she was picking up on her through all of her senses at once.

Rachel raises her eyebrows. "_Everything_ else?"

"It's... like extremely elevated sensation. I don't just get hungry, my body's need to eat suddenly becomes all encompassing. It's the same with... other... feelings. I become attuned to whatever it is I need. Or _want_, I guess."

"So..." Rachel slides her hand slowly, so slowly, across the table to where Quinn is resting hers. "It's safe to assume that whenever you're hungry, your other... _urges_ are elevated, too?"

The warmth of Rachel's hand makes Quinn stare down at where it sits atop her own. "I supposes that's a safe assumption, yeah. But I don't have to be hungry to have other urges. And it's not that the hunger makes me..." Horny is so not the word to throw out, right now. "I'm just very aware of what's around me." She wonders if she should tell Rachel she can track her heart rate, right now, though the casual touch that's happening on top of the table.

Rachel's mouth drops open, but she doesn't stop tracing her fingers against the back of Quinn's hand. "So, when you said you could _smell_ me..."

Quinn nods. "Though, it wasn't _just_ that. I could also pick out your fabric softener, shampoo, and the hand sanitizer you probably used after taking the subway earlier that day. But... yeah. Also, _that_."

The softest little "oh" falls from Rachel's lips and she concentrates on Quinn's skin. "So... is eating... that warms you up?"

"It does. It also..." Quinn's never had to explain this to anyone else, so she has to think about how it all works. "Like, before, when I'm hungry, it's almost like everything is on overload. But after... it's much sharper and I can be more specific with whatever I'm trying to do."

"So, it's like... you're not as focused on how hungry you are?" Things are starting to make sense to Rachel. Like, how that night at the diner, Quinn suddenly felt like she'd been sitting in front of a fire. Something clicks in Rachel's mind. "Oh my god. That night at the diner..."

She doesn't know how to process all of this.

There's another slight nod from Quinn. "I hadn't planned on it, but... I wanted to keep you safe, that night." Or any night. Every night.

"If you hadn't, could you actually have bitten me?" Another wince. "I mean, do you actually _bite_ people?"

It's Quinn's turn for a wide-eyed response. But then, why wouldn't Rachel assume that was what she meant. "Rachel, you... when I'm with you, everything is amplified. But, in a way, it's _always_ been like that. And, yes, that night I had to stop myself because you make me feel things that are so intense..." Her hand twists around so it's now palm up and she gently holds Rachel's hand. "But that night, there was a guy with a brick in his hand and three iPhones in his pockets."

"So, you're some kind vigilante." Rachel shifts in her seat, but she doesn't let go of Quinn's hand. "Out of necessity, I know, but still. That's what you're saying."

"You think one guy in an alley makes me a vigilante?" Quinn's eyebrow peaks, but she knows it isn't fair to bullshit Rachel. "It's not how I always do it, but I had to figure something out that wasn't... completely deplorable. Other... people like me don't seem to care." Her other hand absently rubs her neck as she recalls a very distinct memory.

Of course there are others. Rachel just hadn't thought about it before now. Others, not like Quinn, who would kill someone like her just to fulfill a hunger they don't want to control.

It's not easy to adjust when you find out that the world isn't what you thought it was.

"There are others..." she echoes, and then she turns her eyes back to Quinn's face. "How many? Is this... is this like Interview with the Vampire or Dracula or... I could just be walking home one night from rehearsal."

This isn't fair. It's not, and she'd rather just not know about it at all.

"I don't really know," is Quinn's honest answer. "I only know one other... person like me." Rachel brings up a very good and scary point, however. "Do you... I could come walk you home most nights. It's not like I have anything else going on."

That sounds too casual, especially given the way Rachel makes her feel. "I'd definitely feel better knowing you were okay." Quinn also hates that she's now put this terrifying idea of vampires lurking around every darkened corner into Rachel's head.

The idea of Quinn walking her home every night makes this reality seem a little more bearable, but what happens if Quinn can't always be there to protect her?

"Quinn, that's very sweet of you to offer, but let's be realistic. You can't be there to walk me home every single time I'm out late."

"I'm self employed, I don't sleep, and I... it would let to see you, regularly." The admission has Quinn searching Rachel's face for a reaction. "People commute longer for jobs they despise. Realism aside, give me a good reason why I shouldn't want to walk you home at night."

"It almost sounds like..." Rachel decides to change her approach. "Where do you see your life heading, Quinn? I'm not- I'm just wondering what exactly you want."

Quinn slumps back in her chair, her grip on Rachel's hand is loosened, but their fingertips are still lightly hooked over each other.

"Every single time I've tried to map out my future, it's never once worked out." And now, she has an infinite future laid out in front of her.

Rachel has winced more times in this conversation than she has since high school. "Okay, that's fair. How about what you want just _now_?"

Immediate desires are something Quinn can handle. "I want Merman to be okay and I want to be able to spend time with you."

Rachel smiles at her. "Well. I'm here, and they're doing everything they can for Meman."

There's that feeling, again, the one that makes Quinn feel like she's sixteen and insecure, but at the same time, like anything could be possible. "I also... want to know if you'll ever let me kiss you, again."

Not now, obviously. She knows she looks like absolute crap.

It's not something Rachel can deny, her attraction to Quinn. They've always seemed to have a certain magnetism. She definitely still enjoys Quinn's company, but she hadn't really thought of what it would be like to kiss someone who... eats what Quinn eats. Though, Rachel reminds herself, Quinn technically isn't _eating_. At least she doesn't think so.

She wants to kiss Quinn again. She's just not sure how this is all going to work.

"I don't know, Quinn," is her honest answer, and she says it as gently as she can. It's not Quinn's fault that they have to be having this discussion.

"You didn't- I wasn't really expecting an answer." Quinn's trying to shrug it off, because she knows it isn't fair. Rachel's been given some heavy information and Quinn can feel the weight of it on their conversation. "Did you... would you like to see the house?"

Somehow, playing hostess is still something that puts her at ease. Not that she's had reason to slip into that aspect of her personality in the last few years.

"I really would like to see where you live," Rachel admits. Her curiosity has been killing her, not just about Quinn's condition, but about her entire life. She always was something of an enigma. "Please don't think I don't want to be around you or near you. I'm just trying to process all of this information."

Quinn holds up her hand. "I know. I really do." She pushes her chair away from the table and quickly tries to recall if there's anything absolutely embarrassing lying around, but in the time she spent cleaning and pacing while waiting to hear back from Rachel while she was at the vet and given that she uses just about all of the twenty-four available hours in the day, she knows the house is spotless.

"So," she takes on a tone and persona she used to practice during her junior year of high school: L. Quinn Fabray, Real Estate Agent. "We're standing-" she lightly tugs on Rachel's arm to get her to stand up, "standing in a fully renovated, energy efficient kitchen of a 1936 colonial. Eight foot ceilings, cozy breakfast nook, and I'm definitely not doing this for the entire tour of the house, so you can stop looking at me like that."

This side of Quinn? It's actually really intriguing. "1936. Are there ghost stories and lore? Did a poor, desperate housewife gun down her husband's debt collectors after they murdered him and tracked her here?"

"I'm not at liberty to discuss the sordid history of the home, as it's a also part of the New Haven Historical Home Society." Quinn leans in, as if there are other people around who might hear. "But ask me whatever you want, after the tour." She straightens back up and eaves an arm toward the hallway. "Through here, we have the living room. Several south facing windows that... I can actually show you, if you'd like."

Quinn doesn't wait for confirmation from Rachel, she just draws the curtains back. Because of the angle of the sun, this particular side of the house is shaded. The view, however, is only of the neighbor's house.

"This is really beautiful, Quinn. Did you decorate everything yourself?" It's exactly the type of home she would imagine Quinn would have built for herself- trendy and classic. Of course, everything is immaculate. There's no sign that Merman lives here with her.

"My mom sent me a couple pieces, but yeah, most of it was all me." Quinn lets the curtain fall back into place and watches as Rachel examines the space, like she's trying to learn everything she can about Quinn from it. "The dining room's through here. I don't really entertain so it's..."

It's mostly empty, is what it is. An upright piano sits against the interior wall, but that and the bench in front of it are the only furniture in the room. The floors through the entire house are planked oak, but every other room has at least one rug. This one doesn't.

"I've been trying to decide if a rug of the right size in here would enhance the acoustics of the space." Not that it matters. It's not like she entertains.

Rachel's mostly interested in the piano. "Do you still play? If you do, or if anyone is playing this, you might want to leave the rug out. It would sound much better." It's possible she's being a know-it-all. "I don't mean to tell you how to decorate your home, Quinn. A rug would also be pretty in here."

"Sometimes. I went through a stage last year where I decided to try and learn more songs. It's just something to do, really." Just like her garden and her puzzles. For a moment, Quinn lets herself picture a scenario: She's at the piano and Rachel's seated next to her, singing along with whatever random showtune or pop hit they've decided to tackle together. "I don't really ever get a chance to showcase my musical talents, anymore."

Rachel nudges her. "Maybe you could play for me sometime."

"Maybe." Quinn gently rests her hand against Rachel's lower back, to escort her out of the room. "But, right now, there's still more of the tour. I know you're absolutely dying to see where I hand paint overpriced crap."

"You know me so well," Rachel says, allowing Quinn to guide her. She actually really likes the way Quinn touches her like this. It's a small detail, but it makes her feel looked after.

The basement is finished, split into two rooms and a bathroom. The steps lead directly down into the first space, which is her work studio. Of the entire house, this is the most haphazard, because she's always in the middle of several projects at different stages. Along the far wall is a work bench and to the side, stacked inside plastic tubs, are the smaller finished pieces. Next to the tubs there are barstools and chairs, also ready to go out when Feldman makes his rounds to the local shops for her.

"This... would be where the magic happens."

"Isn't that traditionally supposed to be said about the bedroom?" Quinn's workspace is fascinating to Rachel. Even though the style of what she makes isn't really the most exotic, the fact that she supports herself so comfortably with it is interesting. And there's so much of Quinn's personality in the way things are arranged.

"I think that only applies to people who actually have sex lives," Quinn mutters. Her hand finds its way to Rachel's back, again, and she urges her toward the next room, the one she thinks might be more interesting than where she shellacks wooden farm animals. Through the doorway is where Quinn probably spends most of her collective downtime.

Mounted on the wall is a forty-two inch flatscreen. Someone like Puck would probably bitch about it being too small, but it's the right size for Quinn when she wants to just watch crappy television or Netflix. It's also hooked up to her computer, so she uses it to Skype with her mom and sister. Along the entire length of the wall where the television is mounted is a low bookshelf, packed with books. A sectional sofa takes up a corner of the room and there's a low, square coffee table in front of it. On the table is a half-completed jigsaw puzzle of a vintage French travel poster. Merman's dog bed, or one of them, is tucked away in the far corner and it's filled with an assortment of chew toys, rawhide bones, and one of Quinn's old tennis shoes.

Rachel is happy, right now. She used a sick day, and she's never done that once in her life when she wasn't really sick, and she's actually incredibly happy getting shown around Quinn's house with an icy hand on the small of her back.

For one small second, she imagines herself curled on the couch with Quinn, watching something on tv.

"I like this room," is all she says out loud.

"Me too," is Quinn's soft reply. She's looking at Merman's stuff and remembering exactly why Rachel's even there, right now, at her house in the middle of the day. She catches herself and determines not to let herself fixate on the negative, because she has company and they're actually seeming to have a good time. "Uh, I guess all that's left is upstairs... where the magic... doesn't happen."

Rachel snorts and tugs on Quinn's hand. "Well, I suppose there's no harm in showing me, since it's not a very _magical_ room."

It's kind of endearing, actually, that Quinn doesn't flaunt her prowess.

Quinn doesn't even bother rolling her eyes, she just leads Rachel up the basement steps, then up the wooden staircase between the first and second floors. "This one's the guest room, which means it's for holiday decorations and crap my sister sends me." She doesn't even bother opening the door. "Master bedroom is down here," she says, stopping at the end of the hallway in front of the open door to her bedroom, hesitating a moment before stepping inside.

The shades are pulled, but the room is still visible. Quinn's able to see, just fine, but she realizes maybe Rachel needs more light. "If you want, the light is just..." She's quick to reach for the lamp on the nightstand, but when she turns, she's face to face with Rachel, because they were still kind of walking and... momentum.

Or something.

Suddenly, Quinn Fabray is very much in Rachel's space. Or maybe it's Rachel who's in Quinn's. The lines seem to blur a lot when they're together. All Rachel knows is, she likes having Quinn this close. Well, she also knows that now _she_ can smell _Quinn's_ shampoo and... she lets her eyes fall closed as she breathes through her nose.

When she opens her eyes again, Quinn's are right there, and Rachel feels lost.

Words are in her mind- words like _magic_ and _undersold_ and _sex life_, and Rachel starts remembering the night they shared together and... She has to close her eyes again. She knows she's breathing more deeply, and she doesn't want to give Quinn the wrong idea, but it's not like she can control this reaction.

And then there's Quinn's sense of smell, and Rachel knows that Quinn can tell she's getting turned on, just this fast, but she can't do anything about that, either.

And she's not even one hundred percent certain that she wants to hide it.

"Quinn..." she starts to say something, anything, but there aren't any words. It's like she's watching from so far away, watching her own arm slide around Quinn's waist, pulling her closer. She never gave herself permission for this, but it's happening anyway. Again.

Quinn feels her hands against the wall and Rachel's arm around her waist and she can hear the way Rachel's breathing in addition to feeling it against her ear. She isn't sure what's happening, because she has no idea where Rachel stands on all of this. With all of the questions and answers today, they've all been about Quinn's life.

"Maybe now's as good a time as any to ask," the tip of her nose drags along the span of Rachel's neck. "What is it that _you_ want?"

The way Quinn is nuzzling her neck is extremely distracting. It's always been a bit of a sensitive area for Rachel for one thing, and when she thinks about how Quinn may be drawn to that area of her body naturally now, a shiver runs through her body.

But Quinn is talking to her. She tries to focus, to pull herself out of the haze she's in.

What _does_ she want?

"I want..." She wants Quinn's mouth on her skin. She wants to feel Quinn's body against her own. She wants... "Promise me that I'm safe right now." It's a breathless request, the way she's turned on, but she needs the assurance before she lets this go any further.

Quinn has to push herself back so she can see Rachel's face. "You," she begins, carefully tipping Rachel's chin up with two gentle fingers, "are safer here with me than you would be with anyone else, anywhere." When she's positive that Rachel's hearing her, she adds, "I promise."

All she has is her word and if there's anything she needs in this moment, it's for Rachel to believe her.

Rachel nods, her head rubbing against the wall. "And your..." She clicks her teeth together twice. "You won't get carried away and..."

She has no idea how it works, but she just wants to hear that she's not going to be leaving with any scars to have to account for.

"I feel a lot of things when we're together and it's... yeah, it's intense..." Quinn's eyes shut as she focuses. _"Very_ intense. But all of that," she blinks and she's back to looking at Rachel peering back at her. "All of it," she whispers, "makes me want to protect you, not hurt you."

That's all Rachel needs to hear. She trusts Quinn. She trusts Quinn enough to be with her like this, alone.

"Okay," Rachel matches Quinn's whisper. "In that case, I want you. Right now. I just..." She's still not one hundred percent okay with Quinn's diet. She turns baleful eyes on Quinn, not sure how to communicate her parameters. "I know this isn't the sexiest thing in the world to hear right now, but... could we just hold off on the kissing? Just for now?"

"You... you want..." Quinn's shocked, not because of final request, but because Rachel's suggesting anything should happen at all between them while she's in this state. She's freezing, she knows she looks like she should probably be in bed recovering from the flu or mono or whatever would account for the circles under her eyes. God, she's wearing her damn pajamas, right now, and her hair's been up in a sloppy ponytail the entire time Rachel's been there. "We can do that," she says, nodding slightly, watching Rachel's eyes, feeling the rise and fall of her chest.

"Good because," Rachel pushes off the wall and starts walking Quinn backwards to her own bed, pulling Quinn's hair down from her loose ponytail. "I'm not sure if you were listening, but _I_ want _you_." When they reach the bed, Rachel pushes her onto it and waits for her to scoot backwards toward the middle before following on her hands and knees, and crawling up Quinn's body.

She asked Quinn not to kiss her, but nothing has been said about her kissing Quinn, and the moment her body is settled over Quinn's, her mouth finds an icy neck. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's wondering if vampires can get hickeys.

When Quinn does sleep, it seems like she spends most of that time down in the basement rec room, dozing on the sofa. This bed rarely sees Quinn and it's certainly never had anyone else in it.

"God, Rachel." Quinn immediately notices the warmth of Rachel's body and when she touches her, when she slips a hand behind her head, she can feel the rhythm of her pulse under the skin.

The way Quinn moves is incredible, and Rachel is sure to push her thigh more tightly against Quinn to encourage her to continue. She switches to the other side of Quinn's neck and when she reaches the place where Quinn's neck meets her shoulder, her tongue runs over a spot that feels different than the smooth skin around it.

Quinn's reaction is absolutely involuntary. She clings tightly to Rachel and with the leg wedged between her own, she's unable to avoid rocking up against it. Everything is already switched to "high" for her when it comes to Rachel, and now it's suddenly escalated to something beyond that.

Rachel kisses back up and a few minutes later when she swipes her tongue over that same spot, Quinn's reacts the same way. She curls her fingers into Quinn's hip and applies the lightest amount of pressure so she can suck lightly, just so she can see Quinn's reaction.

Before, in the alley, on that first night, Quinn had to stop herself because she was overstimulated, because she hadn't been close to anyone, let alone Rachel Berry, in years. She had no idea what that kind of stimulation would do to her ability to control herself. Now, in her bedroom, with Rachel sucking on that spot, _right there_, she absolutely does lose control, but not in the way she imagined.

She's coming and crying and clinging to Rachel and it's like her own body won't respond to motor function. She's just _there_ and she needs Rachel right there with her.

Rachel pulls back from Quinn's neck with wide eyes. She lays absolutely still and holds Quinn and just waits until Quinn comes back from wherever she's gone. She smooths soft, blonde hair, and waits, and when Quinn's eyes open again, they're full of tears.

"Hey," Rachel says softly, "what did I do? Are you... okay?"

It's small, barely even there, the nod Quinn offers in response. It takes another minute for her to be able to speak, but she feels compelled to make it happen, because she doesn't want Rachel to worry, and dammit, she promised this woman she was safe and she needs her to know that still stands.

"No one's ever... that's... that's where..." She didn't realize it would be this difficult to explain, especially given that she's already told Rachel what she is. "That's how I got to be this way."

"Oh, Quinn," Rachel says, "I didn't know. I'm so sorry." She's not sure if she's violated Quinn in some way or if it just felt extremely good or what, and she has no idea what to do.

"Hey, no... it's okay. You didn't..." It's apparently still a little difficult for Quinn to form sentences. "It didn't feel... _bad_. It was good. Just... _a lot_ of good." So much, in fact, she doesn't think she can take another round of stimulation, just yet, so she shifts and turns to face Rachel. "Would it be okay if we just lie here for a little while?"

"Yes, of course it is." Rachel's fingers are still in Quinn's hair, and Quinn's skin is still colder than normal to the touch, so Rachel finds a throw blanket at the bottom of the bed and pulls it over them, happy for the chance to actually be looking after Quinn for a change.


	8. Hold Me

**Hold Me**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

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Quinn spends several minutes just lying in bed, head tucked under Rachel's chin as Rachel strokes her fingers through Quinn's hair. She's supposed to be making Rachel feel safe and yet, right now, Quinn's the one feeling secure.

Whatever happened, whatever was triggered by the attention to the scar on her neck... it's never happened before. For her entire existence, it's always been difficult enough for Quinn to allow people to be intimate with her, let alone when everything changed that summer after graduating from Yale.

Her fingers toy with the poodle that's stitched on the left side of Rachel's work shirt. She's been quiet this whole time, but she's suddenly compelled to say, "You would go find a job that has an animal embroidered on the uniform."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "This uniform is exactly why I applied for this job. It has nothing whatsoever to do with my singing career or with how close it is to my apartment."

Quinn's hair is soft, and Rachel doesn't want to ever stop raking her fingers through it.

She still has a lot of questions about what happened between them, but for now, she's enjoying being the one to hold Quinn and feel her breathe in and out. It's so quiet here, just the two of them, and Rachel feels incredibly happy, right now.

Quinn abandons the silhouetted poodle and trails her fingers down Rachel's side, until her fingertips meet warm skin. It causes Rachel to jump, in reaction to Quinn's cold touch. "Sorry," she says. "Maybe I should invest in an electric blanket."

"You don't have to buy an electric blanket just to make me comfortable, Quinn." Though, honestly, the thought of being with Quinn underneath an electric blanket... It makes Rachel feel like Quinn is imagining them together in the future, and she really likes that.

"But I _want_ you to be comfortable," Quinn insists. "And I run a very lucrative business. I can afford that kind of luxury."

Mrs. Dashwood's isn't a _Fortune 500_ company or anything, but it makes enough to allow Quinn the ability to create a welcoming environment for Rachel. If Rachel wants to hang around, that is.

"As long as there's a flame retardant tag on it that says, 'made with care by Mrs. Dashwood.'"

"Shut _up_." Quinn scrunches up her face and squeezes Rachel's hip with her still-chilly fingers.

Rachel yelps and rolls a little away from Quinn before resuming her position. "Sorry. Ticklish. To say nothing of the fact that you're freezing."

"Sorry," Quinn mumbles, again. "It's weird, because I don't actually feel like I'm cold. You're just very, very warm to the touch. Especially when you were, well, on top of me."

"Is that how you see me? That warm girl who was on top of you?"

That earns a chuckle from Quinn. "No, I see you as someone who used to wear knee high socks until she was sixteen, but didn't care because she could bring down the house with a single solo. I see you as someone who was senior prom queen who chased her lifelong dream out of Ohio, all the way to New York." Her hand rests on Rachel's hip, over the fabric of the pleated skirt. "I see you as someone who's lying in bed with me, a bed I haven't shared with anyone but Merman, even though she knows what I am."

Rachel props herself on her elbow so she can look more fully into Quinn's eyes before leaning down kissing her softly. She pulls back just enough to say, "I know _exactly_ what you are." She pauses for dramatic effect. "You're Mrs. Dashwood."

Quinn's a little dazed from the kiss and it takes a moment for her to realize that Rachel's being a pain in the ass. Still, "What happened to the strict 'no kissing' policy?" She wants to do it, again, but this is Rachel's rule and she's not about to break it.

Rachel's mouth drops open and her eyes go wide. She clamps a hand over her mouth, so it's muffled when she says, "I forgot?"

"You forgot your own rule?" It's enough to make Quinn giggle to the point where she ducks her head down to press her face against Rachel's shoulder because she can't stop.

"I just felt like kissing you," Rachel mumbles. She's embarrassed and she's not one hundred percent sure that she doesn't need to brush her teeth. At least it was mostly close-mouthed. "Honestly, Quinn. It's not _that_ funny."

If Quinn ever wants to be kissed again, she knows she needs to stop, but she also can't remember the last time she laughed like this. "I know," she says, pulling back and settling her head on her pillow. "And I like the idea that you wanted it enough that you just... forgot."

"Stop it," Rachel warns, but she knows there's humor in this somewhere. And the way Quinn looks when she laughs makes Rachel feel warm all over. She's suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to tell Quinn seriously, "You're so beautiful."

Instinctually, Quinn's eyes shut and she angles her face into the pillow. "I look terrible." She takes it a step further and burrows against Rachel, hoping her body isn't uncomfortably cold. They've been under the blanket for a while and she knows she absorbs the heat from whatever's around, kind of like a lizard, which is gross to think about herself that way, but it's the most accurate.

"You look terrible," Rachel agrees, dragging her fingers through Quinn's hair. "But even so, you're beautiful."

Quinn snuggles her body more firmly against Rachel's. It's been years since she's been this close to someone and she doesn't even remember the last time she just had a lazy afternoon in bed. "No one's told me that in a long time."

"I can tell you as often as you'd like." Rachel pulls her tighter and wonders if she's ever been this close with another person before without sex being involved.

"Does that mean I'm going to be seeing a lot of you?" Rachel's fabric softener and bodywash are mingled together with the smell of just Rachel herself and Quinn can't seem to get enough of it. "Are you going to let me start walking you home?"

"_Let_ you walk me home? You make it sound like I'm doing you a favor."

"I didn't think you'd take well to me just showing up without telling you, like we were in Twilight or something." Except Quinn was kind of already doing that before she and Rachel were talking, again. "I mean... oh god, I just don't want to be creepy."

Rachel blinks. "You're a _vampire_."

"Yeah, I don't really need the reminder." Quinn just keeps her face pressed against Rachel's chest. She hates that she's so different, that this couldn't have happened while they were both... human.

There's a blonde strand of hair twirled around one of Rachel's fingers, and she busies herself with inspecting it. It's not like she can see Quinn's face right now anyway, which is probably better, because... "Can I ask how...? I mean, how did it happen?" she says as softly as she can and then she adds hastily, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to."

Quinn hasn't purposely been avoiding the topic, but she still has no idea how Rachel will react to it. "You really want to know, don't you?"

Rachel thinks about it- really thinks, because once she hears this story, she can never go back to not knowing. Finally she says, "I really do."

"Okay, well," Quinn shifts so she's able to speak without being muffled, but she stays wrapped up in Rachel's arms. "It was the summer after graduation. There was... this woman I'd... kind of been seeing for a while. She was older, though I guess maybe that was kind of a thing for me in college... but, um, it was really kind of awesome to have someone who didn't treat me like I was just some kid. It turned out she was way older than I thought she was and... I ended up like this."

Rachel is quiet for a moment. "How _much_ older than you thought?"

"She wasn't, like, Dracula old or anything. She was just... it happened to her in the 80's, I think?"

"And... how does it...?" This is a very delicate topic of conversation, and Rachel just isn't sure whether any one thing she'll say will cause Quinn to get angry or shut down. She takes a deep breath and tries again. "How does it work? Is it like... a virus? Do you get sick, or...?"

She hopes it's coming across, what she means to ask.

"It's really more like," Quinn thinks about it, because it's been a few years, but once she hits on the memory it's almost visceral. "Waking up. Only everything is brighter and louder and almost buzzing around you. It's overwhelming, actually."

She remembers that morning, hearing the gardening crew that sounded like it was right outside the house, but was actually at the end of the block. She could smell the pine construction of the dresser across the room. And the light, the room was so bright it hurt, even though all the curtains were drawn.

Rachel reaches down and pulls Quinn's hand up so she can trace the lines on Quinn's palm. "Did it hurt?"

Quinn thinks about saying she just can't remember it, but there's no point in lying. "Yeah. But not more than having a baby."

"But you didn't have an epidural for the... other thing." Rachel's not even sure what to call it.

"I actually didn't have one when Beth was born," Quinn says. "There wasn't time for it."

"You didn't? I... didn't know." Quinn's hands are so soft. "I really wanted to be there. I'm sorry I wasn't."

"Rachel, that was ages ago. We weren't even really friends, then. And, it was already weird enough having Mercedes and Puck see me like that." Then, Rachel probably isn't talking about being in the actual delivery room. She wraps her fingers around Rachel's hand. "I know you would have been there if you could have, though."

"I know, I just feel like it was an important part of your life, and- oh my god. Do you still see her? I can't believe I never even _asked_."

"I've spoken to her a couple of times since that day, but... we don't get along."

Rachel had been prepared for 'we don't see each other much,' at worst, and the news throws her. "You don't- why not?"

Quinn takes the hand that's still held in her own and presses Rachel's fingers to the roughly scarred spot on Quinn's neck. "Because of this."

"She's not... from an opposing faction or a vampire hunter or something, is she?"

"You sound like Sam that time he made me watch that Underworld and Van Helsing double feature." Quinn feels like she should be looking at Rachel if they're going to be talking about this, so she pulls back enough to see her face. Rachel's still touching the scar and it's making Quinn's mind feel muddled, so she gently pulls it away and holds it against her chest. "She's just a regular vampire elitist socialite bitch who does whatever she wants and doesn't care that that means to anyone else."

"Quinn, are you saying... _Beth_ is a vampire? And a bitch?"

"What? How would Beth be-" It dawns on Quinn what Rachel was asking. "Oh my god, no. I thought you were asking if I still saw _Joan_. But no, I don't see Beth. I write to her, though."

"So, you're telling me that you know a vampire elitist social bitch named Joan. And you don't get along because..." Rachel's eyes go wide. "Oh."

"I didn't know she was a vampire until it was... um, painfully obvious." Quinn winces at her own terrible pun.

Rachel sits up. "You didn't know until she _bit_ you? Are you _serious_?"

"Technically, I didn't even really know until the next morning. But yeah."

"Who even _does_ that?"

Quinn's tone is dry as she says, "Vampire elitist socialite bitches named Joan."

Rachel pulls Quinn so that when she settles back down, Quinn settles against her again. "Well, I don't like this _Joan_."

"The stupid part is that I thought she was this incredible, amazing woman and I let her... I should have seen it coming." Quinn's not used to having someone hold her like this, someone to comfort her and make her feel safe. It feels like things should be the other way around, with Rachel being the one who ought to feel vulnerable in this situation.

"Oh, Quinn." Rachel places a kiss on the top of her head and slides her fingers under the hem of Quinn's shirt so she's touching skin. She hasn't felt this happy in a long time, the news about Joan notwithstanding. "How could you _possibly_ have seen something like this coming?"

"She was older, rich... gorgeous." Quinn can still vividly remember the very first time they met, the summer between junior and senior year, at an exhibit opening in one of the Yale galleries. "I was in college and just barely figuring out what to do with my future. Why would someone like that be interested in me?"

"So, being insecure about whether or not you were in her league should have automatically led you to 'vampire?'"

Quinn knows Rachel's right, but it's still a matter she berates herself over. "No." There's still so much more to the story to tell. "You know, I was so mad once she explained to me what happened, I tried to leave her house in the middle of the day? I didn't think it was real, I just thought she was full of shit."

Rachel winces. "Kind of like when I dragged you into the sun to prove that you were full of shit?" She doesn't normally curse, but she's matching Quinn's tone, and she still feels incredibly guilty over what happened.

"I'm pretty sure you pushed me," Quinn corrects. "But yeah. Except I made it about two houses down the street before I started to blister and she ran after me with a blanket draped over her, just to drag me back inside so I didn't... combust, I guess." When she thinks about it that way, she realizes just how close she actually was to cutting her own immortality short.

Rachel gasps. "You don't just burn? It could actually kill you, being in the sun? Just like..." She was going to say 'just like in the stories,' but this isn't a story. It's real life, and it's affecting someone she cares about.

"Apparently, yeah." The thing is, Quinn really barely knows more than Rachel on this subject and that's only due to personal experience. "I've never seen it happen, but the damage can get pretty serious. It took me about a week to recover to the point where I could finally leave Joan's place and I was only out there for less than a minute."

"Oh my god," Rachel says, scratching lightly with her fingernails against Quinn's side. "Okay, so, no sunlight. Anything I should know about that might actually kill you? What about garlic? Do you still wear your cross?"

Rachel isn't trying to be impertinent; she's genuinely curious.

"Well," Quinn begins with a chuckle. She knows Rachel's just asking and she can't deny that she's asked a lot of these questions, herself. "As far as I know, I should avoid being stabbed in the heart and getting my head cut off. But then, so should anyone. Garlic doesn't seem to be a problem, though I don't really eat pasta, anymore, so it's hard to know. And, um, I did stop wearing my cross, but that was out of a crisis of faith when I was twenty-one, not because of this."

"So, you're no longer religious at all? Or did you... convert to... something else?"

"I didn't convert. I just... I came from a small town to a big school and learned a lot of different things. I still believe in God, though."

Rachel has a lot of questions, but she's also still fascinated by what happened with Quinn's scar. It actually may be one of her biggest questions of all. As they've been talking, she's been working her hand slowly up, inch by inch, until she can reach the spot on Quinn's neck once more. "And what about- does anything else about you change? I mean, besides your temperature and your coloring. Do you... are your teeth...?"

She lets the question drop off. Quinn obviously knows what she's trying to ask, and Rachel has also found something else to focus on by touching the tip of one finger so lightly to that spot on Quinn's neck. There's almost no pressure- she's not trying to start anything; she just wants to experiment a little, to see how Quinn responds.

"I... have teeth..." Quinn's eyelids suddenly feel heavy as Rachel touches her. It's not nearly as intense as when Rachel sucked on the spot, but there's an elevated sensitivity. There's also... something else. She can't quite place it, but if Rachel keeps it up, maybe it will come into focus.

"I know that you _have_ them," Rachel says, laughing. "I'm asking if they ever change. Or if... anything else about you does." Quinn seems to like the attention, so Rachel applies a little more pressure and traces a tiny figure eight.

"They... change. I've never watched it happen. I can just feel it." There's a light whimper from Quinn at the patterns being traced over her skin. She wants to kiss Rachel, right now. She's been wanting to kiss her the whole time they've been lying in bed together, but the urge is even stronger now that Rachel's touching her like this.

"You can _feel_ your teeth? Does it hurt?" Quinn is becoming increasingly more distracted, and Rachel nuzzles the side of her face. "And maybe I'm pointing out the obvious here, but you seem to really enjoy what I'm doing."

Yeah, it's obvious. "Doesn't hurt. I can just tell they're different." Quinn wraps her hand in the front of Rachel's poodle shirt. "Are you still... forgetting about your rule?"

That's all Rachel needs to hear. She kisses the spot just behind Quinn's ear, but doesn't stop the circles her fingers are making. "I think we could probably come up with some kind of arrangement for getting around it. For instance, if I knew that you were keeping up properly with your dental hygiene beforehand..."

"I _do_ still brush and floss on a regular basis." How Quinn is able to confirm this information while Rachel's making her feel this restless, is a mystery. "So, if that's what you're worried about, you can... um, you should..."

Rachel still wants her, she's heard even more about Quinn's history and she's still here. Not only that, but they can't seem to stop touching each other. It doesn't feel needy, but it does feel needed and, more importantly, _Quinn _feels needed. And wanted.

And she's not really used to that.

Rachel can't hold herself back any further. She's drawn to Quinn; she always has been. It's the reason she let Quinn in so quickly that first night, and it's the thing she can't deny now, not while Quinn looks at affected as she does and is basically begging for a kiss.

She gives it to her, presses her lips against Quinn's so carefully and then feels her own breath catch. She still can't make herself open her mouth more than this, but she gives Quinn the next best thing she can think of: she pushes her thumb down against the scar on Quinn's neck and rubs in a tight circle.

It's another wave of intense sensation, though still less than it was when Rachel first discovered it. This time, with Rachel kissing her as she's touching that spot, Quinn sees flashes in her mind of past moments they've spent together. The bathroom at junior prom, the bridal shop where Rachel was fitted for her wedding dress, the day Rachel left for New York, the weekend she came down from New Haven and they spent a Saturday afternoon at the Central Park Zoo. They're memories, but they're vivid memories, brighter than they are when she normally recalls them in her mind.

"Be," she mumbles, "careful with that." Quinn's hand places itself over Rachel's but doesn't pull it away. Whatever's happening when Rachel touches her is something she wants to explore, she just doesn't want it to nearly knock her unconscious again.

"What," Rachel kisses her again. "What does it make you feel?"

Quinn's other arm is around Rachel's back and she's just about pulled the other woman on top of her. There's only one word she can formulate to explain what she's feeling.

"You," she says. "It makes me feel you."

The admission makes Rachel feel dizzy. Quinn has a way of making her feel like she's the only person in the world. "And what do you want?"

"You," Quinn repeats. But it's more urgent, this time. She draws her knee up, placing her thigh firmly between Rachel's legs. It crosses her mind that this could potentially ruin Rachel's work skirt, but that thought it shuffled away when more images flood her mind as Rachel keeps fondling the scar.

Rachel's eyelids flutter and she rocks down. "I'm right here," she says. She's fascinated with Quinn's neck and the effect it's having on her, so she continues to touch while she kisses down the other side.

The sensory experience Quinn is having is quickly escalating, but she's able to keep a handle on everything, this time. In her mind, it's like she's reliving their previous time together, both in the bathroom at the restaurant and in the vacant ATM vestibule. It's stronger than a memory, because she can feel it, along with what's happening right now.

"Rachel," the name rumbles low in her throat as her fingers dig into Rachel's lower back. She doesn't remember when she slipped her hand under the uniform shirt, but she feels warm, almost hot, skin against her hand.

Quinn's grip and intensity is making Rachel want to abandon all pretense and just work herself against Quinn's leg until she feels the release she needs, but she's enjoying the build too much to give it up completely. Quinn's hand slides up higher beneath her shirt, and she finds herself silently begging for Quinn's fingers to find a nipple. She pushes herself up with her free arm so there's more leverage for her and more space for Quinn to work, but she continues kissing Quinn's neck and soon makes her way to the other side to replace her fingers with her mouth over that spot on Quinn's neck.

She doesn't suck this time; but she takes her time kissing slowly and then slipping her tongue out to taste. The moment her tongue makes contact, she groans involuntarily and grinds harder against Quinn's thigh.

It's possible that, through instinct and some practical experience with previous girlfriends that Quinn senses Rachel's need to be touched on a very specific area of her body. There's plenty of body language and movement to suggest that Quinn do exactly what she's doing, which is dragging her hand from Rachel's back to her stomach before she works upward.

Then again, Quinn can swear she hears the request, except Rachel's mouth is flush against the skin of Quinn's neck. And, anyway, it's more like she hears it in her mind. Which is weird. But she also can't ignore it.

Her fingers pinch and roll the already stiff nipple through the fabric of Rachel's bra. "Like that?" she asks, with her voice, not her mind, because there's a good chance she's just imagining this whole psychic thing just because everything is so intense.

Rachel tears her mouth away from Quinn's skin and gasps for air. "God, yes," she gasps, and then she's back at Quinn's neck, kissing and licking, careful not to overstimulate. It's like Quinn knows exactly what she feels, is intuitively tuned into her needs in this moment. It's never happened to her before, not quite like this.

Her hips move again, and pleasure shoots through her.

Quinn's head is tipped down, her forehead pressed against Rachel's shoulder, and she's trying to concentrate, to stay balanced, because everything about this moment just makes her want to flip Rachel over and tear the whole fifties ensemble right off of her, but they're still working on a few other things, one of which is making Rachel feel comfortable and secure with everything. So, that's probably something best reserved for later.

Instead, she turns her head to the side, so her lips are pressed just above Rachel's collarbone. She can feel the steady pulsing rhythm of Rachel's heartbeat through that spot, even with the collar of the shirt between her mouth and Rachel's skin. Silently, she hopes Rachel still trusts her, like this, with everything that she knows, now.

Rachel stiffens, just for a moment, when she feels Quinn's mouth on that area of her body. It's so close to her neck. She knows her own heart is pounding, and even though she feels so good right now and wants to keep rocking against Quinn's thigh, part of her is wondering if Quinn will be able to control herself like she promised.

But then, Rachel feels Quinn's muscles ripple under her hands. She can feel how strong Quinn is and how gentle her touch, and Rachel just somehow knows. Quinn said it herself- Rachel is safer here with her than she is anywhere, with anyone else, ever. It's that thought that makes Rachel groan and grind harder, clutching anywhere she can. It's not enough, and she finally pushes herself up enough so that she can look into Quinn's eyes while she rolls her hips against Quinn's leg.

Quinn's hand is still cupped around Rachel's breast, still over the bra, and her other one quickly moves to grip a rapidly moving hip, just to keep Rachel steady. The sight of Rachel looking down at her, the raw desire in her eyes juxtaposed by the fact that her hair's pulled back in a ponytail and accented with a flimsy chiffon scarf. She looks both sweet and sexy, something she's always been able to pull off, and Quinn just wants to absorb this moment through every single one of her senses.

She rolls the nipple again and watches as Rachel's entire body responds and it's almost like she can't stop moving. It's incredible to watch. Probably because, "You're absolutely incredible."

"You... you're..." Rachel can't find her words right now, but then Quinn does something amazing with her fingers and Rachel is forgetting all about how she needed words in the first place. "Oh," is what comes out instead, and it's breathy and accompanied by an intense shudder, all the way down. She's close, and she wants it. She wants _Quinn_, and the only thing she can do is capture Quinn's mouth in the deepest kiss she's ever given anyone. Her hips are still going, and Quinn is still pinching her nipple, and Rachel feels amazing.

The kiss is enough to make Quinn lose a little of that control she's been trying to hard to maintain. Her hand wraps around the front of Rachel's bra and yanks her forward, closing the small amount of space that was between them, then her hips rock up and she's meeting Rachel, thrust for thrust, grinding against her and wishing that damn skirt wasn't between them. But there really isn't anything to do about it, now, because she can hear the way Rachel's breathing and she can feel her own body start to shudder.

She groans into Rachel's mouth, unwilling to break the kiss between them, because she really doesn't ever want it to stop.

The thing about Quinn's body is, it's fit and toned, and her muscles are firm enough for Rachel to feel confident that she can rock hard enough to get where she needs to be. And once she feels Quinn rocking up just as hard into her, she wants to feel Quinn come. She wants to _make_ Quinn come.

Just as she feels herself starting to go over, she breaks the kiss so she can cover Quinn's scar with her mouth once more.

That's it, that's enough. Quinn raises her hips up off the mattress one last time, pulling Rachel against her as her body arches. She cries out Rachel's name and buries a hand in Rachel's hair, gently pulling her away from the spot on her neck, because it's enough just the way everything is and she wants to be able to remember this, not be knocked into oblivion. "I can't..." she pants, "Too much..."

Quinn's reaction causes Rachel to jerk twice more against her and then she's coming, too, with a high-pitched groan that's muffled against Quinn's shoulder. Quinn's hand is still in her hair, and Rachel can't stop undulating softly and erratically against Quinn's thigh.

Rachel's still moving, so Quinn kisses her ear and asks, voice still a little gruff from her own arousal, "Did you... need more?"

Rachel laughs and brushes the hair that's come loose out of her eyes. "No, I'm fine. Better than fine." She's still moving slightly, but it's not that she needs more, it's just that Quinn makes her crazy. "You feel so good," is the only explanation she can offer.

"Sounds like you're the one who feels good," Quinn replies. She wraps her arms around Rachel and rolls them sideways so they're lying the same way they were earlier, but on opposite sides.

How many times has Quinn made her laugh today? She's starting to lose count. "You didn't even really touch me this time."

"_This_ time." Quinn wants to know if this is going to be a regular thing, where Rachel ends up in her bed in the middle of the day. Or any time of day, really. They haven't really talked about it, though, what all of this is. "I keep getting the feeling you want this to be a regular thing."

Rachel just stares at her. "Do you think that I just let people randomly grind against me until they climax?"

Quinn doesn't mean to laugh, but it's funny, the way Rachel can sound so proper when she's talking about grinding and getting off. "No, I certainly do not think that." She rubs her nose against Rachel's before scooting back to gain focus of her face. "I think that you and I have something happening and maybe we should... let it keep happening."

"I'm not going to pretend that we don't have a connection, Quinn. I'd like to... let it keep happening. Especially if you're going to be walking me home after rehearsals."

"Yeah?" Quinn can't resist tugging on the scarf in Rachel's hair. "Do I get to carry your books for you, too?" She leans forward, just slightly. "It's okay, I saw your saddle shoes. I'll pin you or give you my letterman or whatever you need to make it official."

Rachel laughs. "I don't understand how someone could be so different and yet exactly the same as she was ten years ago. Your letterman. And stop making fun of my uniform."

"No, I'm totally serious." Quinn's up off the bed without even so much as a 'wait here' before she disappears out of the bedroom and into the guest room where she rummages through the extra closet until she finds what she's looking for. When she steps back into the bedroom, she's nearly finished ripping the plastic dry cleaning cover off of the Cheerios jacket. "It even matches the poodle," she says, sitting on the edge of the bed and holding the garment so Rachel can slip her arms into it.

Sitting on a very adult Quinn Fabray's bed in the middle of the day, wearing her old cheerleading jacket is one of the most surreal moments of Rachel Berry's life. Particularly since they just brought each other to orgasm. She pulls it tighter around her and smiles coyly.

"This is a very good start toward making it official," she says.

The sight of Rachel in that jacket makes Quinn wish they'd started this years ago. But then, maybe they would have torn each other apart. Maybe they still will now, who knows? She feels good about this, though, about now.

"I think you rushing over here to help my poor dumb dog who eats anything was a good start toward... something," Quinn says.

Rachel beams at her and tugs at her sweater, pulling her in for a kiss. Just before their lips touch, Rachel murmurs, "You'd better start carrying a travel sized mouthwash around with you."

If it were anyone else, Quinn would be glaring or rolling her eyes, but in this case, she certainly can't blame Rachel. "Yeah, okay."


	9. Revelation

**Revelation**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

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"Hey. Stop licking that. I said stop!" Quinn tugs on the leash and Merman lumbers toward her, away from the fire hydrant.

It's been several days since his overnight stay at the vet and Quinn's still uneasy about leaving him home alone, so she's been driving to the city with him, to walk Rachel home after her rehearsals. This means they take the long way home from the theater to her apartment, usually stopping for coffee and a chance to fill Merman's collapsible water bowl. It also means Quinn can't stay the night, because Merman isn't allowed in the building. Though, Quinn's considering the option of sneaking him in, even though it sounds like a set up for some kind of _I Love Lucy_ fiasco.

They're outside the theater, right now, waiting for Kelsey to finish giving notes. Quinn sits on the edge of one of the large planters and Merman sits at her feet.

"Good boy," she says, scratching behind his ears. She wishes she could bring him during the day so they could go for a run in the park or something, but that's an impossibility. At least he has his own yard, at home. "If you're lucky, maybe Rachel forgot the vegan dog snacks, this time."

Merman doesn't seem to discriminate against the snacks, which must mean he likes them, given that he's picky about most of his food. Still, Quinn's been insisting he's only eating them out of politeness, since Rachel saved his life and all. Rachel, however, doesn't agree.

Rachel pushes on the door too hard in her haste to get to Quinn, and it bangs open. Merman jumps to attention, and Quinn just raises an eyebrow.

Rachel wondering how she always manages to seem so cool, even as she's readjusting her bag and saying breathlessly, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm late. Opening night is next week, and Kelsey's obsessed with getting everything perfect." Rachel kisses Quinn on the cheek and pulls back beaming. "It's why we work so well together."

It dawns on her while she's rummaging in her bag for Merman's treats, and she stops with her arm in it to the elbow. "You're _warm_."

"I was going on over a week without it." Quinn knew this discussion was going to happen, she just didn't think it was going to be the opening topic. "I... no one's... missing. I know some people who like to help." It's really weird having to explain this and feel like, each time she feeds herself, she's going to have to report it to reassure Rachel that, either no one is dead or the person who is definitely deserved it. "I brushed my teeth," she adds. "Twice."

Rachel shots her a look and then goes back to digging out the vegan-friendly dog treats. "Here!" she says, giving one to Merman. When he eats it, Quinn gets another look that says, _I told you so._ "Thank you," she tells Quinn, partly for telling her that there were no new fatalities and partly for brushing her teeth. She's wearing Quinn's jacket- it's cold enough that she hasn't left the house without it all week. For now, she's changing the subject off of Quinn's eating habits. "Did I tell you that Tony _loves_ this jacket. He swears we've had double customers all week because of it, and I don't know if that's true, but he's worked it into the show, and my tips have gone up quite a bit."

"You're wearing it at _work_?" Images of ice cream sundaes and sloppy joes smearing themselves across the front of her perfect and pristine jacket, a symbol of how she once ruled the McKinley hierarchy, flash through her mind. Her face contorts with a look of pain, but then she forces a smile, because she just drank someone else's blood back in New Haven and Rachel's willing to accept that about her. Also, that jacket probably deserves to have crap thrown all over it, given the amount of slushies that were tossed on others in its presence.

Merman sits and barks, either expressing his approval of the jacket story or because he wants another treat. Despite Quinn's opinion of vegan dog cookies, it's probably the latter.

"It's making me tips," Rachel says again, stressing the word tips, just in case Quinn missed it the first time. "Tips are cab fare to Connecticut." She reaches into the bag and brings out another treat for Merman. He jumps up on his hind feet to take it out of her hand, and she smiles triumphantly at Quinn. "I told you he likes them."

"He also ate a bag of mulch," replies Quinn. "For a guy who turns his nose up at anything other than chicken and rice flavor, you've chosen some odd exceptions, bud." She pats Merman's head, then slips her arm around Rachel. "Which way do you want to go, tonight?"

"I don't care, as long as I'm with you." It's corny, maybe, but it's the honest-to-god truth. She's never felt safer in her life than she does with Quinn.

"Maybe we can go up toward the park? We can stick to the outer edge, just to be safe. But I think Merman would like it." Quinn knows Central Park at night isn't known for being the safest, but if they don't head into the depths of it, they should be fine.

Rachel's thinking that she probably _should_ have said, "Anywhere but Central Park at night," but the damage is done now. Still, even as she nods and loops her arm through Quinn's, she has a really bad feeling about this, and it crosses her mind (like it frequently does) that her sixth sense is telling her something and she should listen. But she doesn't listen. She ducks her head against the evening breeze and follows Quinn up the sidewalk.

They have a few blocks to go before they even reach the south end of the park and Merman, being a suburban dog, is still getting used to all the city sounds and smells (and tastes, which makes Quinn nervous). She keeps him close and he's fairly good about sticking close to her side. With Rachel on her other side, Quinn's quick to admit that she likes this, feeling like she has a place and friends around her. Even if one of them uhas to stop and pee on everything.

"I can't believe tech week is already here," she says, glancing over at Rachel.

"I know. It seems like it gets shorter every time I do a show, but it's probably just because I'm getting older. I'm really proud of the work we've done on it. It might be the best production I've been in so far." Once she starts talking about her show, it's easy to forget where they are. And since Quinn played such a big part too by designing the set, it's a big thing they have in common.

They walk and talk, and Rachel forgets her nervousness. She forgets that she's homesick for her dads and that she's so exhausted from all the irons she has in the fire and that she's full of disappointment from never realizing the dream she's had since she first learned to sing. It's perfect being her with Quinn and Merman, and for the first time in a long time Rachel feels content.

"You're great in this, from what I've seen." Quinn's enjoyed watching the bits of rehearsals she's seen, but every time she watches Rachel on stage, she knows just how much more she would shine if she were in a musical. She realizes that she hasn't heard Rachel sing since they reunited.

As they near the park, Quinn opts to stick to the lit roadway that cuts across the lower southwest corner, because there will still be the light traffic of cars and carriage horses, plus the handful of fearless nighttime joggers.

"Thank you. You'll be pleased to know that I enjoy hearing about how talented I am just as much as I did in high school and college." Rachel slides her hand down Quinn's arm until she can link their hands together. "Though, if you'd offered to let me wear your letterman jacket in high school, I might have assumed there were explosives rigged in the pockets."

"Rachel! I'm offended," Quinn replies, with a gasp. "I never, ever would have risked damage to my Cheerios jacket." She bumps her elbow against Rachel's side. "And I was never violent. I just... didn't understand how you could just keep going after everything we said and did to you." They've kind of already had this talk over amaretto and diet Dr. Pepper back when Rachel and Kurt lived in the Bushwick loft. She's long since apologized for her behavior and it's really just kind of a ridiculous memory, now. "But you kept going, all the way to New York and now you're the star of," her voice raises, as if she's announcing this next bit to everyone in earshot, "_Steel Magnolias_, opening next Friday at the Harold and Miriam Steinberg Center for Theatre!" She slows them to a stop and tugs Rachel closer.

"You're _the_ most talented person I know and you always have been." Her lips barely have a chance to brush against Rachel's when Merman suddenly lurches forward and yanks the leash out of her hand. "Seriously?" There's a glance back at Rachel as she begins to dash after the dog, "Hold that thought, please."

Rachel's eyes are closed and she's feeling Quinn's lips brush against hers, and then Merman breaks loose. When she opens her eyes, she's completely alone in the middle of the street. It's pretty dark, and Rachel squints, trying to determine which direction Quinn may have headed, but she just doesn't see her at all. She listens intently, but she can't hear either of them.

Wonderful. Now Quinn is running through Central Park in the middle of the night by herself, off the street.

Of course, Quinn can probably take care of herself, Rachel reasons, but then she reminds herself that she really has no basis for that except for the idea that Quinn is a vampire. She ultimately really has no idea what that means, other than Quinn's skin warms up once she's eaten.

And now Rachel is thinking about vampires. Sure, she's on a well-lit street, but it's late enough that traffic is sporadic, at best. A cab passed by a few minutes ago, but right now it's just her, and the sound of her own heart beating seems like it's getting louder, waiting for Quinn to bring Merman back.

Quinn doesn't chase after him for more than maybe twenty seconds before she catches up and grabs his collar. "I said to stop, you big goofy jerk." She's laughing, because this is just par for the course with him. He's generally well behaved, but when Merman decides to break form, he goes all out. "I think he probably saw a squirrel or something," she calls out, looking back to where Rachel should be.

Only Rachel isn't anywhere to be seen. Quinn can see the light from the roadway, but she's run a lot further than she thought she did.

Rachel waits for Quinn on the street. There's no reason for both of them to be off in the dark, even if Quinn probably _could_ find her just by using her sense of smell.

It's such a crazy thing to think about.

When she finally hears a twig snap just off the road, she turns and flashes an enormous smile of relief. "God, where did you go? You just weren't there anymore, and-" Her smile dissolves immediately. "You're not Quinn."

Everything is a blur after that. Rachel thinks later that the man probably had a mid-sized frame, but to Rachel, he seemed enormous. The one thing she knows, here and now, is that he's running at her, shouting something about her bag, and then when he reaches her, he's clutching at her, trying to get one arm around her and yank it off her shoulder.

She's lived in New York City for years now and she's never been mugged; not once. Everything from her self-defense training is in her head somewhere, but she's never had to use it and it's muddled and disorganised right now. Somehow, her reactions kick in and she shifts at just the moment to use his own weight and momentum against him. When she brings her knee up a moment later, it connects solidly, and he doubles over, spit flying out of his mouth with the cursing he's hurling at her.

Even though Rachel's out of sight, Quinn hears the scuffle. Merman's ears also perk up and the both of them are trying to zero in on exactly where the sound is coming from. Quinn has no idea exactly how far she chased after the dog, but the longer she stands there trying to figure it out, the longer Rachel is alone, fighting for herself. Merman barks and it's clear that he seems to think they should hurry up and make a decision.

Once the man's down, Rachel turns and runs back in the direction they came, her eyes searching frantically for someone- for _anyone_. She sees a man just up ahead and digs deep to sprint as hard as she can. She has no idea if her assailant is following her, but she's not risking it.

"There's a man..." she calls, "back there. He tried to-"

The shout from behind her drowns out her voice. "That bitch kicked me in the balls! Get her!"

Rachel stops running, but it's too late. The man she was running towards for assistance is with the man who assaulted her, and now they're both closing in on her. Self-defense against one may be doable, but now she's outnumbered.

Even when they get close enough for her to see their faces, Rachel is searching for some way out, but with the way they're approaching her, she has to have her back to at least one of them. When she feels a thick forearm snake around her neck from behind, she drops her bag and brings both hands up, clawing at his skin. There's nothing she can do, she knows, but she's at least going to go down struggling.

It dawns on her vaguely that this is the end. She'll never be on Broadway. She'll never sing in front of a crowd again. She won't even be able to kiss Quinn one last time. Quinn. Rachel hopes that she's safe somewhere, at least.

There's a growl and a snarl and Merman is on the scene, leaping up and throwing his weight against the left side of the man who's in front of Rachel, knocking him to the ground. It's only briefly, though, then he's rising to his feet and about to kick the dog.

He doesn't get a chance, though, because he's quickly dragged back into the darkness of the shadows.

When it happens, Rachel can only see a flash of fur that she knows is Merman. He's snarling and biting at the man, and then standing in a defensive posture once the man is up and advancing on him. Quinn is nowhere to be seen, and Rachel struggles harder against the man who's still holding her. His friend is going to kill Quinn's dog right in front of her, and she won't even be able to look away. Just as he brings a leg back to kick Merman, he staggers like something hits him from behind and then he's disappearing back into the darkness. His eyes are wide and full of terror, and then he's just gone.

The first guy, the would be dog kicker, is knocked out cold when he collides with a tree, after being tossed twenty feet further into the depths of the dark wooded area of the park. The second one still has a hold on Rachel, though he seems to be just as shocked and freaked out as she is when his friend is absorbed into the night. He whips around, keeping Rachel in front of him as a human shield, but then there's a presence next to him and a voice in his ear saying, "Let her go."

"Fuck y-" he begins to speak, but a hand wraps around his throat and he has go release his grip to try and fight off whoever's choking him. It's no use, because he's suddenly disappearing into the dark abyss of the shadowy night, just like his buddy.

Rachel can't breathe. She knows that voice, though it's far deeper than she's ever heard it before. She turns just in time to see the same panic-stricken look on his face that she saw on the other man's.

She feels a brush against her leg and looks down to see Merman looking up at her, thumping his tail on the concrete. He barks and tilts his head at her, before looking back toward where the man was last seen.

After a moment, Quinn's shape steps out toward the lit area of the street, but she has her jacket collar pulled up over her face. "Could you... um, just not look at me for a minute?" she asks. Her voice is quiet, not at all like the aggressive tone she used with the mugger.

"You want me not to..." It's starting to come together for Rachel, finally, what has happened. "Oh," she says, after a minute, and she feels like every ounce of energy she has left is just gone. "You've changed."

It isn't a question. Quinn saved her. She saved her by dragging those men off into the darkness, and-

And now, she's different.

Rachel stoops to pick up her bag so that she'll have something to do, something to focus on. While Quinn hangs back, Merman stays close to Rachel and nudges his wet nose against her arm as she's bent down.

"I think... it's okay, now," Quinn says. She can tell her face has returned to "normal" but it's still difficult for her to actually look Rachel in the eye. "Are you alright?"

Rachel wants to shoot Quinn a look, but she's been asked not to. Of course she isn't alright. Nothing about this is alright.

"I think... It's late, and I think I'd just like to go home now," she says, wrapping her arms around her middle.

Quinn wants to comfort her, but she doesn't know what she's supposed to do in a moment like this. "Of course," she looks up and down the roadway for a cab, but there isn't one in the immediate vicinity. "Let's head back this way." They never really made it that far into the park, so it would only take a couple of minutes to walk to Central Park South and 7th Avenue where there will be plenty of cabs. "My face is... um, you can look at me, now. If you want."

"Okay," Rachel says, but she doesn't really make an obvious attempt to examine Quinn's face. She's tired. There's a lot she needs to process right now, and she _knows_ that Quinn hasn't had the time to brush her teeth-

She feels like she could cry at any minute.

Instead, she just ends up nodding and following Quinn back up the way they came.

As they walk, a car approaches from behind them, causing their shadows to stretch across the pavement. Quinn turns to see that it's a yellow cab, so she raises a hand to hail it. Maybe if they can get out of the park and into the taxi, they can actually talk.

She opens the back door, so Rachel can climb in, but the driver is quick to roll down his window and say, "I can take the girl but not the dog."

Quinn isn't thrilled, because she wants to see Rachel all the way home, but she's not about to get in an argument with this guy. "Fine." She ducks her head down into the back of the car so she can say, "Text me when you get home? Please?"

"I will," Rachel promises. She looks into Quinn's eyes for the first time since it all happened and says, "Thank you." Regardless of how she feels about it, Quinn saved her. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there."

Quinn doesn't either, and that scares the shit out of her. She wants to say something more, but the cabbie is muttering under his breath and, honestly, she doesn't know what else there is to say about what happened. There's a nod and a wave and then she shuts the door.

Merman looks up at her, illuminated in the glow of the cab's red tail lights and all she can do is shrug.

The ride home seems to take no time at all, not with Rachel staring blindly out the window, lost in thought. She can still smell the guy who had her by the neck, and she wonders vaguely if she'll ever to be able to forget it.

The way that those two men were dragged off... It's not right. It's not _normal_. They had been about to hurt her- or worse- but, still, they were human beings, and they were terrified. And who knows what Quinn did to them once they were out of sight.

When the cab pulls up outside of Rachel's building, she barely even notices that she's paying and closing the door and walking herself inside. She heads up and lets herself in and locks her bedroom door behind her. And then she just stands in the center of her room, not sure what to do, or think.

There's a chime in her bag, letting her know she has a text. It's from Quinn.

"_Glad you made it home. Goodnight._"

Rachel smiles, in spite of the hollowness she's feeling, and sends back, "_What's the point of asking me to text you when I get home? Goodnight, Quinn._"

Quinn glances up at the window she knows is Rachel's, even all the way from down where she is on the sidewalk, then stuffs her phone back in her jacket pocket. There's a light tug on Merman's leash, then they're turning away from the building. "Come on, buddy. We have a long drive home."


	10. Lay It All Down

**Lay It All Down**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

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It's been two days.

They've exchanged a few texts, and one email, but it's been two days since that night, and they haven't seen each other. They've barely talked.

Rachel feels awful. She just doesn't know what to think of all of this, and it's not like she can call up her dads and say, "Dads, I need some advice. I'm dating a vampire and sometimes she kills people, what do you think I should do?"

Tonight is tech rehearsal, and since Quinn is the set designer, she's bound to be here. Rachel feels nervous through the entire thing, and even though it's dark in the theatre, she can feel those eyes on her for most of it. She has no idea where Quinn is though, since she's not in her regular seat. Maybe Rachel's mind is under too much stress, and Quinn isn't here at all. After all, she's been opening her closet and checking under the bed every single night, and that much paranoia is bound to wear a person down.

Once rehearsal is over, Rachel heads backstage to get her things. It's been hours, Kelsey's given her notes, Rachel's makeup is off, and there's still no sign of her.

Quinn's been backstage, all night. She has to be there as they run through all the individual lighting cues, just to make sure everything looks okay. Okay, she doesn't _have_ to be there, because any adjustments could be made by any crew member, but she's a friend of Kelsey's and it's not like she has anything else to do tonight. Plus, she's worried about Rachel. Or, to be more accurate, she worried about the fact that she and Rachel are barely talking and it's been two nights since she's walked her home.

Not that Rachel isn't perfectly capable of caring for herself. There's no reason why she can't just catch a cab at the theater and ride home, which is probably what she's been doing. It makes a lot more sense than Quinn making the ninety minute trek by train or the hour by car, just to see Rachel to her door each night.

She knows Rachel's in the green room, because it's really the only place to be if she isn't onstage and hasn't left the building, but she doesn't want to crowd her or seem like she's unwilling to give Rachel the space she needs, so she lingers in the doorway.

Rachel gets her things together to leave for the evening, and literally runs into Quinn on her way out of the green room.

"Are you crazy? You can't just hover in doorways like that," is the first thing out of her mouth, and she immediately regrets it. "I'm sorry." She takes a deep breath, as if signaling non-verbally that she's starting over. "Hi. I wasn't sure if you'd be here tonight."

Despite the awkwardness of the moment, Quinn's amused at Rachel's initial reaction because, well, it sounds like something she, herself, would have once said to someone, though perhaps with a little more insult on the delivery. "Of course I'm here. I'm a professional. And... I really wanted to see you."

"I'm- well, here I am. Did you watch? Did it look okay?" Rachel knows that her performance specifically is top notch, but she always appreciates positive feedback, and she'll never be above asking for it. It's the performer in her.

"Everything looks good." Quinn leans against the frame of the doorway. "You looked good. But you know that." This conversation is fine, sure, but it's a far cry from the afternoon they spent lying in Quinn's bed.

The awkwardness that's happening between them feels heavy on Rachel's shoulders. "I'm heading home, if... would you like to walk with me tonight?"

"I- yes. Definitely." It's almost embarrassing how quickly Quinn jumps on the offer. "I left Merman at home." She doesn't know why she needs to clarify this, because it's obvious that he isn't with her, since he's not allowed in the building.

Rachel waits until they're out of the theatre before she tells Quinn, "I'm sorry about the past few days. I've been..." She thinks about saying that she's been busy, but this is Quinn she's talking to. "Thinking about everything that happened that night. I just... needed some time. Are you okay?"

"I get it," Quinn says. She has her hands stuffed in her jacket pockets because she really doesn't know if she's supposed to hold Rachel's hand or put an arm around her or just leave her alone. "I'm fine. I also... I know that night was pretty, uh, shocking for you. But you should know... it was like that for me, too."

It's so strange, walking somewhere with Quinn and not holding her hand or touching her in some way. "You were shocked that night?"

"With myself, I mean. I didn't really know I could move like that." Quinn doesn't know how to explain it more than that, because she still only just has the memory of what happened.

"We probably need to talk about this." There's a question in there somewhere. Rachel just needs for Quinn to hear it, and be open with this.

"Probably," Quinn agrees. They approach a corner and the light is green and there's the little blue man, signaling for them to walk, but there's an instinct in Quinn that causes her to throw her arm out in front of Rachel. Sure enough, a pedi-cab wheels by, moving fast enough to have done some damage to anyone who'd stepped in front of it. "Watch what you're doing, asshole!" Quinn shouts after the guy, but he doesn't even acknowledge her.

Rachel winces and tucks her hands under her arms. "Um, we could... get a cab, if you'd rather not walk."

"Is that what you want?" Quinn's main concern is getting Rachel home, safely. How it happens doesn't matter.

"I just... think that I would feel a lot better if we could talk about everything." Rachel doesn't know how to say that everything about Quinn feels uncertain right now, or that it scares her.

"Okay," and then Quinn's hailing a cab, which is easy here in the heart of Midtown. Once they're in the back, she lets Rachel rattle off her address as she watches the news and entertainment highlights on the television screen in front of her.

Rachel doesn't talk, either. And they're not even touching, so it's not the comfortable silence they're used to, when they don't have to be communicating verbally to be communicating. By the time they get to Rachel's building, she's a wreck.

Quinn's already slipping her debit card through the slot to pay for the ride before Rachel can even open up her back for her wallet. Once the fare is paid, she opens the door and steps out, holding a hand out to Rachel, unsure if it will be accepted or not.

The moment Rachel's hand touches Quinn's, the awkwardness almost completely dissipates, at least for Rachel. It grounds her; it reminds her of things. This is _Quinn_.

They definitely need to talk, but at least Rachel doesn't feel like she's bringing a stranger into her room.

"You're warm tonight," she says softly, leading Quinn inside.

Quinn doesn't know what to say to that, because all of it is just a reminder of what she is, which is different and something other than human, which is why they need to have the conversation that's bound to happen once they get upstairs. She simply nods and waits for Rachel to unlock the lobby door.

Rachel doesn't let go of Quinn's hand all the way upstairs. When they get to the apartment door, she hopes that her roommate hasn't barricaded them out, tonight of all nights. When the knob turns smoothly, she smiles at Quinn, and it feels like forever since she's been able to, though that could just because they haven't seen each other for a few days. Once they're inside, she says, "Do you need anything before we...?" and then gestures toward her bedroom.

"I don't think so. Unless you do." It's funny, because this is the part that should feel awkward, the small talk and the seeming uncertainty of what comes next, but Quinn feels better than she has in days.

"No," Rachel says, and then leads Quinn into her room by their linked hands. She's already stooped down and looked under the bed and has the door to her closet open to make sure it's empty before she notices Quinn watching her. She doesn't have a good explanation, so she decides not to offer one. "You can sit, if you want," she says, and she's back to feeling awkward again.

The irony doesn't escape Quinn that Rachel's checking everywhere for monsters only to turn around and invite one to make herself comfortable. She primly places herself on the edge of the bed, hands folded on her lap, looking like she's ready for an etiquette lesson. Quinn Fabray can still do poise and posture, anytime, anywhere.

"So..."

Rachel climbs on the bed and leans against the wall, facing Quinn, so she can bring her knees up and hug them to her chest. It's not the most open body language in the world, she knows, but there is an element of self-preservation here, at least in the emotional sense. She still feels safer with Quinn in her bedroom than she has at all since that night in the park.

She has no idea where to begin.

"You weren't... hurt, were you? That night, I mean," Rachel asks, not looking up until the last second. She never even asked, and she's felt awful about it for days.

Quinn shakes her head. She turns so she's fully sitting on the bed, legs folded under her. "No, not at all. I was scared, because I didn't want anything to happen to you."

Rachel just wants to feel Quinn's arms around her again, but then she's not sure if that's the best idea yet. "I'm not sure if I'm ready to hear the answer to this question, but what happened to them? After... after you took them. What did you do, Quinn?"

"What did I- You think I-" Quinn sits up straight and blinks, because she realizes what Rachel thinks may have happened that night. "I didn't..." The truth of it is, she doesn't know if she left them alive or dead. "I threw them?" is the best she can offer. "But I didn't... um... feed on them." It turns her stomach to even say it, because she knows what Rachel must think of her for that to even be an option.

There's more than one thing Quinn says that Rachel can't get her head around, but one sticks out more than the others. "You _threw_ them?"

"They were attacking you and I just wanted them as far away from you as possible. So, I..." Quinn makes a tossing motion with her arms. "I've never really done that before and it wasn't my plan, I just... it was so easy." She has a feeling this isn't helping. "I don't really... know my limits."

"Two grown men. You threw them." This is impossible. "It is just when you're in... a situation, or is it like that all of the time?"

Quinn shrugs. "I don't know." She thinks about it, because she really hasn't stopped to evaluate any of this, but part of her knows this has been there, under the surface. "I mean, I guess some things are easier than they used to be. Especially when it comes to lifting stuff." She stretches one leg out along the bed. "After my accident... I had a lot of pain when I moved or sat a certain way and I definitely couldn't pick up more than a couple of pounds without it hurting. You remember how I always had to sit sideways in that chair you had at the loft, right?"

Rachel does remember. Every time Quinn visited, it was a very present reminder of what they'd been through- of what _Quinn_ had been through, and why. Quinn's accident was something Rachel carried with her for years, long after Quinn swore that she'd accepted it and Rachel should too. Rachel nods, thinking about it, and hugs her knees tighter.

"So, I know I can move differently and I'm stronger than I was. I just really haven't... tested it." Quinn wants to move over and sit next to Rachel, so she can hold her and assure her that, despite all of this weirdness with these abilities she seems to have, she's still herself. She stays where she is, though. "I just reacted, because I wanted to protect you."

"And I don't want it to seem like I don't appreciate what you did," Rachel says quickly. "I keep seeing them at night, those men, and I know that if you hadn't been there..." She takes a deep breath, because they both know how that night could have turned out. "I'm just trying to make sense of all of this. I mean, I know that you told me about your... condition... before, but it was just this idea, just something that was out there, and now it's in here, and... I'm just trying to understand."

Quinn nods. "Okay. Um, do you want me to go?"

"No! I don't- It's not that I don't want you here. I'm sorry if I'm making you feel like that's what I mean." This is not turning out how Rachel wanted it to turn out at all. They need to get back to what they know. "Maybe..." Rachel bites her lip. "Would you...?" She pats the bed next to her and watches Quinn's face hopefully.

A small smile spreads across Quinn's lips as she nods. The fact that Rachel wants to be physically closer to her really helps, even if it's just a small gesture. She quickly moves to sit next to Rachel and immediately feels like there's progress to be made from this act alone.

"I don't like that I make everything so confusing for you." The last thing Quinn wants is to keep making Rachel's head spin. At least not like this.

Rachel slides her feet down the bed so that her legs are straight out in front of her and she's not appearing so closed off. She drops her hand closest to Quinn down on the bed palm-up and spreads her fingers out so that Quinn can take her hand.

Quinn does just that and this feels right, taking small steps, doing what's been comfortable for them.

"I don't like that I'm making _you_ feel bad about a part of you that you can't help," Rachel says softly, once their hands are joined. It's like the physical connection reminds her that this is Quinn and not somebody she barely knows. It's about them, and that's something that Rachel can handle. "I know that it's ultimately none of my business, but it means a lot to me that you didn't just hurt them, or worse, even if they were going to- even if they meant me harm. It could have been very easy for you to lose your temper and do something awful."

Quinn's replayed that night over and over again in her mind and she knows that if she'd actually had time to think, to consider what these men intended to do, she could have easily done much worse. "If they had hurt you... I probably would have."

"Quinn, you have to know that... I wouldn't have wanted that. And I know that it's not up to me, but," Rachel turns enough to look into Quinn's eyes, really look, for the first time tonight. "You're stronger than them. We don't know how much stronger, but you probably could have easily handled both of them at once, and that's... a lot of strength to be responsible for. I mean, ultimately, you'll do whatever you think is best, I know, but please don't ever do anything out of anger, even if they're horrible people." Rachel reaches up with her other hand and lays it over Quinn's chest, just over her heart. "I know you, in here, and you're far too good a person to hurt people just because they do something you don't like."

During her entire experience as a vampire (and that's still such a weird thing for her to say, even to herself), Quinn has lived by her own rules, mostly the same ones that applied while she was still very much human. But this, hearing Rachel make this request, it makes her feel more like she has a choice, to do good instead of bad, to keep control of herself and be responsible.

She nods and leans against Rachel. "I think you're the only person who's ever pointed out the good in me. Which is kind of funny."

With Quinn leaning against her like this, it feels like they might be okay. Or at least like they'll be able to face these challenges together. "Beth sees the good in you. Or she did. So did Noah." Rachel uses the past tense because she has no idea what they're relationships with Quinn are like now.

"Beth's biologically engineered to see me that way. At least until she's fourteen. So I have a couple years of that left." Quinn laughs, because she's just realized that Beth is practically a young adult and time really does fucking fly, doesn't it? "And Puck..." She knows Rachel is right, but she also knows Puck evaluates everyone else against his perception of himself, so of course he's going to think she's a good person.

"You can't argue with me," Rachel says. "You should know that well enough by now."

"I got scared, that night. Because I meant it when I said you're safe with me." Quinn squeezes the hand in hers.

Rachel bites her lip, unsure of whether to say what she's thinking or not. It could be fine; on the other hand, it could piss Quinn off, and force them to lose the ground they've made in the past few minutes. "What if... what if you get angry with _me_ one day, and...? What then?"

Quinn's face falls and her stomach hurts at the mere thought of what's being asked. "Rachel," she says, turning her body toward Rachel. "I reacted that way because I was protecting _you_. I would never..." She shakes her head. "I would never hurt you like that."

"I believe you," Rachel is quick to say, "but we're talking about you losing your temper, and... it's just a question. I don't want you to think that I don't trust you."

On some level, there is a trust issue happening here, though, because ultimately Rachel has no idea what Quinn is capable of what her condition means mentally and psychologically, as well as physically. They're both navigating uncharted waters here, and she just wants to have everything on the table.

She can see the pain in Quinn's eyes, though, and it cause her own chest to ache.

Quinn hears Rachel's words and she believes her, but she knows it isn't that simple. "What can I do to prove it?" she asks. "Because I want to. I want you to know, to really know that I... I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you're okay." Once upon a time, that meant marrying Finn Hudson to make sure Rachel made it to New York. Then it was refusing to attend Rachel's wedding. And now... now it's whatever Rachel needs it to be.

"I think... I think that this is a very big part of you, and it's a part that I've only heard you talk about. And then I saw it, but it was a very intense situation, and I thought that I might... that I might be dead and, god, it was like something out of a horror movie, Quinn, watching those men get dragged off into the night. I know that you were protecting me, and I'm so grateful that you were there, but..." Rachel knows she's been rambling, but she has no idea how to ask what she wants to ask. "I feel like, if I could see you, really see you, in a safe space where no one is threatening my life, I could see that you're still my Quinn, even if it's just a different part of you."

Through the whole speech, Rachel kept her eyes trained on their hands, tangled in her lap, because she couldn't bear to look into Quinn's eyes and see the pain there again. Even now, she still can't look up.

There is so much that Rachel's saying, right now. There's a heavy request hanging between them and it isn't the easiest one for Quinn to fulfill. But something Rachel's said makes her want to do it, to show Rachel what she needs to see.

"That's how you think of me? As yours?" If Quinn still had a pulse, it would be racing.

Rachel still isn't sure where to look. "Well, I mean, not in the traditional sense of ownership, _you're mine_, I just mean..." This is where it really counts, and she finds Quinn's eyes finally, trying to show the sincerity in her own. "The Quinn that I... that I've come to care so much about." She can feel her blush spreading, even before she says the next part, "Besides, I generally tend to think of people who pin me up against the door of the ladies room as _mine_, in the sense that I don't let just anyone have me like that."

Quinn can see the pink tinge on Rachel's cheeks and she certainly can't blame her. Here they are, trying to have this very serious conversation and the memory of that night, alone, is turning Quinn on.

"I care so much about you, too. Which, I guess is obvious..." She looks down at the bedstead, then at their hands, and finally back up at Rachel, expectant expression. "I've never really tried to just... turn it on before. Not without needing to do it. But I... I'm sure I can. Um... Do you want to actually see it happen or..."

"I don't want you to do anything that you're not comfortable with doing," Rachel says honestly. "But, if you think you can, and you're okay with me watching it happen..."

Rachel has no idea what she's asking for. Is this something that's intensely private that she's asking of Quinn? Is it on the same level with asking to see someone naked? Is it more intimate than that, or less? She has no idea.

Quinn takes a deep breath to steady herself, but it's really just out of habit, because she doesn't breathe, even though it's like her body remembers that it used to and so it still moves the same way, pushing air in and out. She wonders if it happens because her mind still thinks it needs the involuntary action, but then, if that were the case, shouldn't she have a pulse, too? None of that is really relevant now, though. Rachel wants to see what she looks like, what this other side of her looks like, and Quinn, despite how self conscious she is about it, is willing to show her.

Her eyes squeeze shut as she thinks about what usually happens when she changes. Normally, she's hungry, ready to feed. Or, that night in the park, she was focused on Rachel and protecting her from harm. She waits about ten seconds, then asks, "Well?" She hasn't felt anything, the way she usually does, but maybe something's happening, anyway.

"Is something supposed to be happening right now?" Rachel asks, trying to suppress her smile. Quinn is obviously trying to comply with Rachel's request, but nothing is happening.

Quinn opens her eyes just so she can roll them at Rachel. "I'm trying, okay? I've never done this without... provocation, before." Her eyes fall shut, again, and she goes back to trying to conjure up whatever it is that makes her change.

"Would it help if I bared my neck to you and got turned on?"

"_Rachel_," Quinn keeps her eyes shut, this time, but her tone conveys the same level irritation. It's superficial, though. She knows Rachel's just trying to help, the problem is, neither one of them really know how to make this happen.

"I'm sorry! Being patient isn't exactly something I'm known for," Rachel tells her. "I'll just... try to be quiet and wait. But I can't help it that I want to help."

"I know. Just give me a minute." Quinn pulls Rachel's hand into her lap, holding it between both of her own. The problem with this entire scenario is that she only ever takes on that side of herself when she's hungry or scared or angry. And she just ate, she feels secure here with Rachel, and she's actually the closest to happy she's been in a very long time.

She does, however, have this fear in the back of her mind that, no matter how much she knows she would never hurt Rachel, this other side of her might take control and... what if something happens. But maybe Rachel's onto something with this whole exercise in wanting to see this part of Quinn because, regardless of what it looks like, every part of it, every part of _her_, is still Quinn Fabray.

The one Rachel apparently likes to think of as her own.

In a non-possessive sense, of course.

Carefully, Quinn raises Rachel's hand up until she's pressing the palm of it against her neck, flush with the scar. She doesn't try to think of anything specific, other than the fact that she wants to prove to Rachel that this side of her isn't something to fear. And, honestly, she wants to prove it to herself.

Rachel's hand reacts on its own, the moment it's touching Quinn's skin. It molds to the curve of Quinn's neck, and Rachel watches Quinn's face, searching for any sign of change. The obvious absence of Quinn's pulse is alarming, but Quinn's skin is warm and Rachel's moves her thumb in the tiniest caress.

The touch on her neck calms Quinn and she's able to relax, which seems like the exact opposite of what she needs, but then it happens. She feels the shift in her teeth and the sting in her eyes that always accompanies the shift. She's never really thought about just letting herself feel it like this before, so it's a new experience and she's actually glad she's able to share it with Rachel. If Rachel doesn't decide to run away out of sheer terror.

Quinn is breathing through her mouth the entire time, and Rachel doesn't take her eyes off of her. Just as Rachel is beginning to think that this isn't something Quinn can do on command, Quinn's teeth change. There's a shift, and Rachel ducks her head down so she can see properly. There are two sets of top teeth that are definitely now pointed.

Rachel can't contain her gasp.

At the sound of Rachel's reaction, Quinn's eyes open and she looks at her. "Is it... I can make it stop if it's..." she doesn't know what to do, because she doesn't know what any of this means.

Once Quinn's eyes are open, there's a whole new batch of things to take in. The first thing Rachel notices is a nearly overpowering physical sensation that literally takes her breath away. It's like she can actually feel Quinn's eyes on her, like Quinn is physically touching her just by looking at her, and it's- She gently pulls her hand away from Quinn's neck, and the feeling lessens instantly. She can still feel it, just not as strongly.

"Rachel..." Quinn still has no idea if this is too much. "Should I stop?" She can feel the connection, too, the way it dims when they're no longer touching. That, on its own, suggests that Rachel is fine, because she can tell Rachel isn't afraid of her. But she also would like some verbal confirmation.

"Please," Rachel says softly. "Just let me see you."

She pulls herself onto her knees and moves so that she's directly facing Quinn. Slowly, she extends her hand once more and brushes her fingers against Quinn's neck again. She feels the connection intensify, the way Quinn's eyes are touching her face, her neck, her lips, and she has to blink when they land on her own eyes.

"How...?" She doesn't even know what she wants to ask because Quinn doesn't have the answers either. "Your eyes are..." Darker, brighter. _Changing_. "They're moving. The color is. I think. It's... hard to tell, but it looks like they are."

She brushes her thumb against Quinn's neck to make sure Quinn knows that she's okay. She's not terrified. She's not revolted. She's fascinated.

"My eye color is _moving_?" Even in this state, Quinn can't keep her eyebrow from arching up. "That... how?"

Rachel wants to laugh, but she gives Quinn a stern look instead. "How on earth am I supposed to know? It's just... it's the same color, it's just... It looks like the patterns in your irises are moving? But they're not. I don't know."

It's far better than any stage makeup Rachel has ever seen.

With Rachel staring into her eyes during an already intimate moment, Quinn's overwhelmed by the connection she's feeling and she forces her gaze down at the bed. "Sorry. This is just... a lot." She didn't expect that it would be so intense on her side of all of this.

Rachel lets her hand fall from Quinn's scar, and since Quinn isn't looking at her, the feeling fades. She misses it immediately. "Hey," she says. "If it's too much, you can stop. I just wanted to know this part of you and show you that I'm not afraid. It's crazy and impossible, and it doesn't make any sense from a medical standpoint, but I'm not afraid of you."

Quinn's eyes shift back upward to Rachel's face. "You aren't?" She knows Rachel's said so and she's hearing the words, but she can't imagine that this isn't terrifying, even just because it doesn't make any sense. "I can... leave it for as long as you want." There's a pause, because she actually isn't sure about that. "I think I can."

Rachel thinks about it before answering. Quinn deserves the truth. This is different. It's strange. It's physically impossible, the things Quinn's body is doing.

"It will take some getting used to, but no. I'm not afraid you."

It's a relief to finally know. The Quinn she cares about is still here, even with eyes that move and change and touch her. Even with... fangs.

Quinn nods, relieved. She relaxes enough to lean back so Rachel can continue to look, but it's also most like causes her to also relax whatever psychic muscle it is that causes the entire change to happen, because she feels her teeth shift back to normal and the link between herself and Rachel seems to lessen, though it's still there, in some capacity.

"Oh. Uh, I can put it back. Do you want me to put it back?"

"no, it's fine. As much as i want to know all of you, I don't want you to feel like some kind of exhibit." Rachel smiles."I hope it's okay that I asked. I've always been drawn to you, but now... You're even more fascinating."

"Okay, I get why you think that now, but what could have possibly been so fascinating about me before?" It isn't that Quinn hasn't had people who looked up to her or even, well, worshipped the ground she walked on, but Rachel was never like that. Rachel was always dynamic enough to draw her own focus.

"Oh, please. The pretty blonde christian cheerleader who went through a bad girl phase before losing the ability to walk, fighting to regain it, and then graduating from an Ivy League school with a degree in architecture? To say nothing of the fact that my mother adopted your baby. Can you really not see it?"

"I can see it," Quinn admits. "I think I was just too busy thinking about how much everything sucked all the time to assume anyone would find me fascinating. Especially at those times in my life."

"Well, you'll be happy to know that I find you incredibly fascinating," Rachel says, letting her eyes drift to Quinn's lips.

"Yeah, I heard you the first time," Quinn says, voice low. There's still a level of vulnerability she's feeling, but it's different now. The way Rachel's staring at her mouth makes her pull her bottom lip between her teeth as she waits for... whatever's supposed to happen next.

"Quinn..." Rachel whispers. It always happens like this. They get close to one another and then Rachel can't help herself.

Rachel's looking at Quinn the same way she was that first night at the diner, and she's doing it after knowing what she is and seeing how that part of her looks. "You look like you want something," Quinn says, the corner of her mouth turning upward.

"I can think of a few things," Rachel tells her, leaning forward. Not all the way; but enough.

"Maybe you should tell me." Quinn's the one gazing at Rachel's lips, now.

Rachel tilts her head slightly to the side. "The Quinn Fabray I know doesn't let anything stop her from getting what she wants."

It's habitual, the smirk that appears. "Don't you mean _your_ Quinn Fabray?" As much as she's teasing Rachel, this is exactly the kind of signal she needs to do what she's about to do next. She closes the remaining space between them and presses her lips to Rachel's.

After the connection they've shared tonight, the contact between them feels absolutely electric to Rachel. She's been dying for Quinn to kiss her, and now that she is, Rachel moans softly and shifts on her knees. She puts her hands down in front of her to steady herself and comes in contact with Quinn's legs.

The sudden desire to straddle her is overwhelming, and Rachel swings a leg over so that she's in a more comfortable position.

Quinn's hands slide up Rachel's front and she grips handfuls of her shirt, pulling her closer. She doesn't need slow and tentative, right now, she needs closeness and intensity, and if she's reading Rachel correctly, it's a mutual thing.

Quinn's urgency causes Rachel's moan to be louder this time. She remembers the way she felt Quinn's eyes on her, and it makes her want to feel Quinn everywhere.

She can't get her hands into Quinn's hair fast enough.

"Rachel," Quinn groans against Rachel's mouth when she feels fingers lace through her hair. Her own hands release the fabric of the shirt and drag down the sides of Rachel's body, until she roughly grabs Rachel's hips. Quinn can't remember a time when she's ever wanted someone as much as she wants Rachel, right now. Not even that night at the restaurant or the night at the diner. This is different, because there's a deeper connection and Quinn wants, needs, to explore it.

It's obvious that Quinn is getting impatient, and the way she's grabbing at Rachel's hips is only turning Rachel on more. She can't explain it, but she's positive that Quinn is restraining herself, and the more she holds back, the more Rachel wants her to just take control.

She's seen Quinn's power first hand, and the only thought in her mind right now is how much she wants it directed at her.

She tugs at Quinn's hair and grinds against Quinn's lap, trying her best to communicate her own mounting urgency.

This is all well and good, but Quinn needs more. She needs further contact and as much as she loves what they've been doing while they've previously gotten hot and heavy together, this time needs to go beyond where they've been. Her hands release the hips in favor of pulling the long sleeved shirt Rachel's wearing upward until she has to pull back from the kiss to actually completely remove it.

This gives her a moment to look at Rachel and ask, "Is it okay if we... god, I want you, Rach."

Having her body bared like this, even if its only part of it, makes Rachel feel that much closer to Quinn. And the nickname... God, hearing Quinn use it is amazing, and Rachel pulls at her for another kiss, this one deeper than before.

"You can have me," Rachel breathes against her mouth before kissing her again.

Once the shirt is over Rachel's head, Quinn releases it to let Rachel shed it from her arms and toss it aside. Quinn's hands are now occupied with sliding over the smooth skin of Rachel's sides and stomach, then to her back as she wraps her arms around Rachel, because Quinn is moving and shifting until they're flipped over and Rachel's on her back with Quinn looking down at her.

This is exactly what Rachel wanted, and she shifts until she can slide a leg up Quinn's side. She wants everything at once, but she has no idea how to ask for it.

"Quinn," she says, shifting again.

Quinn continues kissing Rachel, her tongue slipping past open lips, and she groans at how easily she's welcomed into Rachel's mouth. This is all trust and desire and need and connecting and Quinn has to tell herself to focus on what to do next, otherwise she might just come, right then and there.

She drags her mouth away to trail open mouthed kisses along Rachel's neck and bare shoulder, then lower, to the now exposed skin of her chest. A hand cups over a breast, tugging and pinching through the lightly padded fabric of Rachel's bra.

Rachel's body arches up automatically, trying to get Quinn closer.

The weight of Quinn on top of her feels so good, and she's already wet. When she thinks about telling Quinn, she groans and slides her hands down Quinn's back, digging her fingers into Quinn's skin underneath her shirt.

"God, Quinn, I never thought..." Rachel gasps at whatever Quinn is doing. "I... I _need _you."

Quinn's so quick to tug the bra down, she swears she hears a couple stitches pop. Later, she'll probably offer to replace the garment all together, but right now, she's moving her tongue over soft skin until it's met with raised firm flesh of Rachel's nipple and, immediately, all of her attention is on that spot.

The rest of her body is moving without any specific direction from her brain. Her hips gently undulate against Rachel, her left hand trails over warm skin until her fingertips toy with the elastic of the track pants Rachel wore to rehearsal, this evening.

When Rachel feels Quinn's mouth on her nipple and the fingers at the edge of her pants, she whines into Quinn's mouth. It feels _so_ good, and Rachel has to close her eyes and concentrate so that she doesn't just come.

She wants to feel Quinn's skin against hers, but when she tries to pull Quinn's shirt up, she ends up dragging her nails up Quinn's back instead.

Quinn's mouth falls open and her back flexes at the sensation of Rachel's fingernails scratching along her skin. She forces herself upright and whips her own sweater up and over her head and she's about to drop right back down to where she was, but she's taken in by the sight of Rachel stretched out beneath her, skin flush, chest rising and falling, lips parted, and it's obvious she's waiting for Quinn's next move.

There are so many sentiments in Quinn's head about how Rachel is incredibly beautiful and the sexiest woman she's ever seen in her life, but talking seems like a waste of time. She wants to show Rachel how she feels, not just tell her.

"Quinn," Rachel says, and rocks her body up, squeezing her knee against Quinn's waist. "I want to feel you."

Quinn braces her arms on either side of Rachel's head and dips her head down to kiss her. "Yeah?" she asks.

Rachel rakes her fingers up Quinn's back again, desperate to make Quinn react. "Well, you're so warm right now," Rachel says breathlessly, looking up into Quinn's face. "It'd be a shame to waste it."

There's a hum of approval as Quinn lowers herself back down until she's lying on top of Rachel and then she makes another sound, this one more like a whimper, at the feeling of skin on skin. She can't kiss Rachel enough, right now, but she also wants to touch her, to explore her, to make her writhe underneath her. Quinn wants it all, which is why her hand is quickly back to where she left it, tugging at the waistband of Rachel's pants.

Rachel lifts her hips as much as she can, which isn't much with Quinn on top of her. Quinn's skin feels amazing, but what Rachel really wants is for Quinn to slide her hand beneath the waistband of her pants. "Please, Quinn. Touch me."

Maybe some other night, they can draw this out longer and take their time, but not right now. Quinn needs to touch Rachel as much as Rachel seems to need Quinn touching her, so she complies with the breathy request and her hand disappears into the pants and nimble fingers continue to work underneath the material of Rachel's underwear. Quinn gasps when her fingers so easily slip through the heat between Rachel's legs. "Oh my god," she says. It's not at all a surprise that Rachel is this turned on, but it's still incredible to be able to actually _feel_ it, like this.

A strangled sound comes from Rachel's throat. Her arms move up so they're behind her head, and she grips the quilt on her bed. She moves against Quinn's hand and tries to stifle her moans as much as possible.

Quinn's fingers are already soaked and she's barely even touched Rachel. Currently, she's tracing patterns and enjoying Rachel's response to being touched. Her mouth continues to map the contours of Rachel's neck and shoulder until it stops long enough to leave a hickey just below her collarbone. But Rachel needs more than this, it's obvious.

"Just tell me," she says. "I'll do anything you want."

"I- god." Rachel can barely form thoughts, let alone transfer them into words. "Inside," she's finally able to force out.

Quinn moans in response and then she's doing exactly what Rachel's requested, which draws another vocal reaction out of Quinn, because this is just an even more intense connection that what they were already feeling between each other. Her head raises up from where it's been resting against Rachel's shoulder and she watches Rachel's face as she flexes her wrist and navigates the most intimate parts of this woman who continues to amaze her, even after all the time she's known her.

Rachel's senses are nearly in overdrive, but there's one thing she needs, as she rocks harder against Quinn's fingers.

She forces her eyes open so she can look into Quinn's.

"Show me," she gasps.

The question catches Quinn off guard, because she can't imagine that Rachel's asking what she seems to be asking. But as she looks into Rachel's eyes, she can tell, she can _feel_, what it is Rachel wants. Quinn doesn't know if it's the best idea, but she did promise to do anything and she needs Rachel to trust her.

She still asks, "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Rachel says, driving her hips down frantically. "I want you. _All_ of you."

"Okay," Quinn replies, her voice reduced to a whisper. She closes her eyes and tries to remember how she did this before. It's still not a perfect science and she's also currently preoccupied, so it takes a moment before she's able to let go and then she feels it happen. She's scared, really, to open her eyes, because there's a nagging thought in the back of her mind that this is a terrible idea, that Rachel doesn't know what she's asking.

Except Rachel does and this is a huge exercise in trust for the both of them. For them together, really.

Her eyes blink open and she's presented with the sight of Rachel looking up at her. And Quinn can feel _everything_, right now.

The moment Quinn's eyes are touching her, Rachel feels her first orgasm. It shocks her, because she had no idea she was _that _close. It's a short burst of energy, and then Rachel's body is stretching beneath Quinn and arching, and she knows immediately that it was a precursor to what is about to happen between them.

Being connected like this, with this psychic link or whatever it is, Quinn's presented with the overwhelming sensation of Rachel's orgasm, not just in the sense that she can tell Rachel's getting off and it's pleasurable for her as the giver, but in the sense that she's physically responding to it. It's more than physical, though. It's... mental or spiritual or all of the above. And maybe it's crazy that Rachel asked for Quinn to tap into this side of herself in the middle of all of this, but she can't deny the bond she feels, right now, in the moment.

It's stronger than anything she's ever felt, before. For anyone.

Rachel loses track of how many times she comes. She can't even tell if its a bunch of small orgasms or if they're all part of the same extended experience. She knows that she can feel Quinn inside of her and that Quinn's weight on top of her is somehow exciting and comforting at the same time. And she knows that this intensity between them is making her move in ways she's never moved before.

This is all new and intense and incredible, but Quinn finds herself closing her eyes and letting herself shift back. They really have no idea what all of this means and the last thing she wants to do is make Rachel pass out from exhaustion or something. She hates to lose the potency of the link between herself and Rachel, though when she opens her eyes, again, she still feels something very strong and very real.

Rachel's still rocking against her hand and Quinn certainly isn't going to stop until Rachel tells her otherwise. "Rach..."

Once quinn changes back, Rachel feels herself start to slowly come back into focus, but she's still coming and Quinn's still rocking with her, and she feels so many things all at once.

She wraps one leg around Quinn's hip and squeezes, trying to still Quinn's movement. She brushes weakly at the hair damp with sweat against her forehead and smiles bashfully up at Quinn.

"Hey," Quinn says, smiling back. Her hand stops, though it stays where it is, for now. Rachel's chest is heaving against her own as she catches her breath and it's probably trite and cliche, but all Quinn can think about is how beautiful she is.

"Hey," Rachel answers in the same tone. "Will you stay tonight or do you need to..." She trails off but gestures at the door, suddenly very uncertain.

"I can stay." Quinn's quick to answer and it's possible she's been hoping for the chance to make up for that first night she came over and Rachel caught her sneaking out. "Though, it means I'll be here all day."

"I've always wanted to have an advanced security system," Rachel says, and then she laughs and covers her face with one hand. "That was awful. I'm sorry. It's incredibly difficult for me to concentrate right now. You're still..." She drops her eyes downward.

"Hmm?" Quinn follows Rachel's gaze, then laughs as her head falls down against Rachel's shoulder. "Yeah, I guess I am..." She carefully navigates her hand out of Rachel's underwear, though she leaves it tucked under the band of the track pants, for now. "That was... you make me feel wanted, like no one ever has..." There's so much more to say about this, but are they ready for that? Quinn isn't sure.

Rachel is far too spent to change her clothes right now. She can't even think about getting up to turn off the light. She just wants to wrap herself around Quinn and feel safe here in her arms.

Quinn kisses Rachel's cheek and finally pulls her hand free so she can shift on the bed and pull Rachel into her embrace. "Rachel?" she asks, once she's settled.

"Hmm?" Rachel answers sleepily, settling in to Quinn's arms.

"Thank you," Quinn says, quietly. It sounds like Rachel's moments from sleep, but she still needs to say this. "For always seeing me. You always have and... it just..." She sighs, because the feeling's there but the words are much harder to draw out. "Thank you," she repeats, stroking Rachel's hair.

Rachel's eyes open, but she stays very still. "And you've _always_ believed in me," she says softly. "You don't have to thank me for something I can't help doing."

"It just means a lot to me. _You_ mean a lot to me." Quinn kisses Rachel's forehead. "And you're barely keeping your eyes open, so go to sleep." She squeezes her arm around Rachel and lets her own eyes fall shut as she allows herself to sink into the contentedness that she's feeling.

"You mean a lot to me too, Quinn," Rachel murmurs. At least, she thinks she does, but she's nearly asleep again. It's the last thing she thinks before she finally sleeps, just how lucky she is to have Quinn back in her life.


	11. Dreams

**Dreams**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

* * *

When Quinn opens her eyes again, it's three hours later and the bedroom light is still on. Rachel is tucked up against her and everything about this scenario feels just right. She kisses the side of Rachel's head and stretches her arm across Rachel to try and reach the light. It takes a second attempt, but she finally get it and the room is significantly dimmed.

Rachel's skin feels cool to the touch and with the way she's so tightly burrowed into Quinn, it's possible she's cold, so Quinn gropes around until she finds the edge of the blanket, then pulls it up over them. Later, when it's actually morning and not the middle of the night, she'll need to text Feldman and ask him to check on Merman. This time around, she made sure the yard was free of anything potentially dangerous and topped off his large water bowl before she left.

There may have been a part of her that hoped Rachel would want to talk after the rehearsal, so Feldman's really won't be caught off guard, because Quinn may have already suggested she'd need his help, today. Though, the current circumstances of Quinn's sleepover with Rachel were certainly not what Quinn was expecting.

That said, she's not at all disappointed at the way things turned out.

She lets her eyes close again and relaxes to the point of attempting sleep. It's still so different than it was when she was still alive. Dreams aren't the same, for instance. In fact, tonight's proving to be something very different.

Somewhere in the back of her sleep-muddled mind, Rachel is aware of Quinn stirring and leaning over her. Then, she's in darkness and there's a blanket being dragged over her.

She can still feel the connection they've established, she and Quinn, and slides a hand across what she thinks is Quinn's stomach. Right now, even in sleep, she always wants to be touching skin with her own, because if she stops, this link they have might stop, and she's not ready.

"Quinn," she breathes, and then Quinn is settling again and Rachel is curling back into her. Rachel's dreams have been especially vivid tonight, but it won't really register until she's more fully awake.

As Quinn lies there, her mind wanders and, eventually, she's caught between the haze of wake and sleep. She's not really dreaming so much as day-dreaming, or at least recalling a memory. It's senior prom, she's on stage, counting votes. That's silly, because they didn't count votes on stage, but in this version, she's behind the drum kit with ballots laid out in her lap and she's writing Rachel's name on all of them while Santana stands over her.

"_Hurry up, the giant's going to see you and then you'll have to explain that you're in love with his girlfriend."_

"_Why aren't you helping me?" Quinn asks, barely taking the time to look up._

_Santana's hands are on her hips. "I'm keeping watch."_

And then it's done and she's handing the results to Principal Figgins. In her mind, she knows she didn't need to change the votes, because he just needs the tally. But she wants Rachel's name to be on all the ballots, just in case. When she looks out at the crowd, she sees Finn and he's glaring at her and then he's in front of her.

"_She doesn't want you. You're a liar and you can't even walk."_

She feels herself change and she knows she can just stand right up and rip his still-beating heart out of his chest, if she wants to. But she won't, because this is senior prom and that would ruin everything. Her hand covers her face and she forces herself back to normal, hoping no one else has seen what happened.

Rachel is slow dancing on the catwalk, high above everyone else in the gym. She's alone, and it doesn't even occur to her to look for Finn until she hears Santana's voice.

_"Hurry up, the giant's going to see you and then you'll have to explain that you're in love with his girlfriend."_

Rachel stops twirling and looks over the edge. Finn is below, staring at the stage. She follows his gaze, and there's Quinn, seated at the drums, tiny cards spread over her lap. Rachel can see that her eyes are moving, even from here.

_"What are you doing up here?"_ It's Tina, and Rachel feels guilty, for some reason.

_"You can sing for me tonight,"_ Rachel tells her. She can't even remember what she was supposed to sing. She looks back over the railing, searching for Quinn.

Only Quinn isn't there anymore.

And Rachel is falling.

Quinn's out on the dance floor, in her wheelchair, and she sees Rachel tumble over the edge of the railing, but everyone's in her way. This stupid chair is keeping her from getting where she needs to be. It's now or never, she supposes, and she's rising on unsteady feet, but then she's moving, cutting through the crowd and she's just in time to catch Rachel in her arms.

Everyone's staring, but Quinn's focused on Rachel.

"_Are you okay? You won, you know."_

"_I gave my solo away," _Rachel says. Everyone is watching. She's in Quinn's arms, and everyone is watching, and Quinn is standing. Rachel looks down. _"You're strong."_

"_I gave mine away, too."_ Quinn gently sets Rachel down so she's standing on the ground. She leans closer so she can whisper, _"I want to kiss you, but everyone will see."_

"_You could have kissed me then." _

"_You weren't ready. I wasn't even ready."_ Quinn places her arms on Rachel's hips so they can dance, because music has started back up. _"I knew I loved you, but I still wasn't ready."_

Rachel knows, already. She can't explain why or how, but she does. Even the part of her that's laying in Quinn's arms on her bed in Hell's Kitchen, the part that's not slow dancing in the middle of her high school gymnasium, somehow even that part knows. She might forget, later, when she's herself again, but now it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"_And yet you still haven't kissed me."_

"_That's because,"_ Quinn's even closer, her nose grazing Rachel's as her eyes drift shut, _"once I start, I'll never stop."_

She never does. At least not at the prom.

Rachel's eyes flutter open. "Did you say...?" She doesn't want to repeat it out loud because it seems like it was meant only for that world, for that time.

"Hmm?" Quinn stirs and turns her head to look at Rachel. "I didn't say any-" Wait. Rachel was asleep, just now. And so was she.

Rachel sits halfway up and blinks at Quinn. "We were dancing. And I fell." She narrows her eyes. "You were in that awful chair."

"I was writing you in on all the ballots and..." Quinn pushes herself up on her elbow. "There's no way we both..." But it makes sense, with the level of connection they gained earlier. "I didn't know that was possible." She realizes what Rachel was asking when she woke up. "And I, um, I did say that, yeah."

It's probably better if Rachel doesn't push it. She should forget it and move on. It was a dream, and that's the more important point, right now. They both had the same one.

Still.

"And it... that was just part of the dream, right?"

Quinn's quiet for a moment, but there's really no reason for her to hesitate any longer with this.

"No."

Rachel can't help it. Her mouth actually, literally drops open.

And, for once in her life, she does not have the words for the situation. She's genuinely struck speechless. Maybe she's just groggy from the previous evening and recently waking up.

She does have the presence of mind to close her mouth, at least.

Quinn sits all the way up. She has no idea what Rachel's reaction means and Rachel isn't speaking so, Quinn feels like maybe she should further explain. "I mean, back then I definitely... I knew I cared about you. I just didn't know how to categorize it. And you were... with Finn and heading to New York." Her hand pushes through her hair, which is probably a mess, and she watches Rachel for any kind of response.

"Why didn't you say something?"

"I was barely able to admit it to myself, how could I say anything to you?" Quinn leans back against the wall next to the bed. "And you were on your way out. There was no way I would have said anything that could have potentially distracted you."

Quinn is being completely sincere, and Rachel knows it. There are too many things for her to feel right now, and Quinn looks so vulnerable that Rachel just wants to connect, again. She sits up and leans in so that she can press her lips against Quinn's. She kisses Quinn slowly and sweetly, and then when she pulls back, she says, "I'm sorry if you weren't ready to have this discussion."

"I'm okay now," Quinn insists. "I mean, you were inside my head and everything, just now. I think I can... talk about it." She seeks out another kiss, then pulls Rachel to her so she can wrap her arms around her.

Rachel huffs. "How do you know that you weren't inside _my_ head?"

That's actually a really good question. Quinn looks at the content of the dream, itself. "Um... because it was prom? And you... wouldn't know about the ballots."

Rachel pulls away so she can look into Quinn's eyes. "Explain, please."

Oh, right. Rachel wouldn't know about the ballots, because _she didn't know about the ballots_. "Well," Quinn scrunches up her nose as she takes her time with this. "We... I... I convinced Santana to let us write you in as prom queen." She's still scrunching her face, because she isn't sure how Rachel's going to take the news.

"Wait. You _cheated_?" And then it dawns on her. "I... didn't really win."

Rachel has no idea how to feel about this. On one hand, it's incredibly sweet that Quinn and Santana, of all people, wrote her in for prom queen. On the other hand, it had meant _so_ much to her that she'd finally shaken her annoying, overbearing reputation and won the respect of her fellow students. Only she hadn't. They never voted for her.

She tries to remind herself that it was _years_ ago. She's achieved so much since then. Leaving Lima and moving to New York, graduating from NYADA with honors, actually getting paid to perform on a stage. So much has happened since high school, and it shouldn't matter that she never really won.

But it does.

Quinn doesn't need any kind of psychic connection to be able to read the look on Rachel's face. She's devastated. Which is exactly what Quinn wanted to avoid.

"Listen, I know it... I know it seems that way. And, yeah, I guess that's the technical truth. But I was sitting there, counting votes and finally getting what I wanted and... I just kept thinking about you and how much you'd done. You'd come so far and you were on your way to bigger and better things. You deserved to win, even if everyone else didn't see that. And... the thing is, once they all thought everyone else had voted for you, they started treating you like someone who deserves to be prom queen." It's a lot of talking and she doesn't expect it to put everything right back to where it was before she broke the news, but she hopes it will help Rachel understand. "You were never supposed to find out."

"I appreciate what you did," Rachel says slowly. "I know how much it meant to you to win, and for you to give that up..." That's the one thing that makes this bearable. She remembers talking to Quinn in the hallway that night, before Santana brought the ballots in. How Quinn looked in her dress. In her chair. She'd told Quinn that she was humble and beautiful and inspiring, and she'd meant every word. And then Quinn proved her right. She gave up her dream and stood on her feet for the first time that night, while Rachel danced.

It doesn't make it hurt any less, but it does make her search Quinn's eyes. "Thank you," she says, and right now, it's the best she's got.

"I just wanted everyone else to see you the way I did."

Rachel wants to tell her that they didn't; that they'd all voted for Quinn. Instead, she ducks her head and tucks it back under Quinn's chin. "Thank you for giving it up," Rachel says again, so softly that she almost doesn't hear it, herself.

Quinn just holds her and listens to the soft sound of her breathing, unsure what to say, if she should say anything, at all. It's just after four in the morning and they have all day to spend together, but Quinn doesn't want this looming over them the whole time.

"I almost said something," her voice seems loud in the quiet room, even though she's barely speaking above a whisper. "Not about the vote, but about... you know. In college, when we were back in Lima for winter break that first year."

Rachel nestles against her and smiles. It's a welcome feeling, right now. "Tell me?" is the soft request.

"I don't know, it was a long time ag-" There's a pinch on Quinn's leg. "Okay!" She's actually thought about this particular instance more than a few times, so the details are clear in her mind. "You were on that crazy mission to find more Hanukkah paper, but no one had any left. And I asked why you hadn't bought any in New York, because the Jewish population is much more prominent here than in Ohio and you got mad at me because you assumed I was suggesting that you hadn't planned ahead, when you obviously always plan everything." Quinn laughs because Rachel has always been so very much herself, even as she's changed and matured over time. "And then we went to Sheets N Things to get those wine glasses for my mom and I found that roll of blue and silver paper in the clearance section and you were just... like, ridiculously happy about it."

"This is about wrapping paper?" She knows that it's more than that, but she can't resist teasing Quinn.

And she remembers going to Sheets N Things with Quinn that day very clearly. Quinn had cut her hair short again the day before and was still getting used to it, so she'd been running her hands through it and shaking it and flipping it about all day. They'd sung in the car together, and Rachel was happy. There's an almost overwhelming feeling of nostalgia filling her up, recalling the memory, and she wonders what other memories they could have made together if they'd only managed to stay in each other's lives. Maybe Quinn wouldn't have ever been with Joan. Maybe she never would have... Rachel blinks. "I remember that wrapping paper."

"It was just a really great day," Quinn continues. "And in that moment, you were practically glowing over something so simple and I'd been the one to help you find it." It was such an easy moment, yet it still holds such a specific place in her memory. "You'd been broken up with Finn for months. I'd been at Yale long enough that I was starting to figure myself out and... admit some things to myself. And even though I wasn't in a place to admit that I was... you know, gay... I knew you made me feel a certain way. I just... I don't know. I didn't think you'd ever feel the same way. Honestly, I thought if I ever said anything, I'd be met with a lecture about how gay parents statistically don't raise gay kids."

"They _don't_," Rachel says. "And anyway, I don't identify as gay. I identify as a performer who happens to believe that you can love anyone."

Rachel snuggles more against Quinn. She could listen to Quinn talk about this all day. "Just because I didn't know that I'm fluid doesn't mean that I wouldn't have been open to... exploring my feelings for you. I've always cared about you, Quinn. Even in high school."

"I have no doubt you've identified as a performer since the womb." Quinn draws in the scent of Rachel's hair, something that's quickly become a comfort for her. "As much as I was thinking about it, I wasn't ready," she echoes the sentiment from the dream. "And you never said anything when I told you I was interested in Spencer. I know we weren't really talking a lot by then, but... I kind of thought if you... I don't know, _flexed_ that way, you might have said something."

"Well, Spencer wasn't really any of my business, and you've never really been the type to gush about your love interests," Rachel says. "And I wasn't sure that I /flexed/ until much later. There have only been two, plus you, and I didn't really analyze it. I was far too busy with my senior platform."

"I dated Spencer during sophomore year. Why would you have been busy with senior stuff?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "The first girl _I_ was ever... flexible with was during senior year."

"But here we're finding out maybe you could have been flexible with me, if I'd have just said something." Quinn's caught somewhere between amused and disappointed in all of this.

"Or if I had realized that my admiration for you was deeper than just overcoming your apparent dislike for me in high school." Rachel wishes she could go back. She wishes she could tell her younger self that Quinn is an amazing woman who makes her incredibly happy. "I just didn't know."

"Neither of us knew, Rach." Quinn tightens her arms around Rachel and kisses the top of her head. "But we know now. And we still have about twelve hours before I can even think about leaving, so I hope you have a lot of board games."

"You can't possibly want to get out of this bed right now."

"I don't. But later I assume you're going to want breakfast and maybe the use of your legs, so I'm just thinking ahead."

Rachel grins. "You're making me breakfast?"

Quinn can't remember the last time she cooked for someone, including herself. "That was a pretty big stretch, but I suppose I could. I was raised with the training to be someone's Susie Homemaker, and it would be tragic if I never put those skills to use. Do you even have food in that kitchen?"

Quinn being someone's Susie Homemaker draws an enormous laugh out of Rachel. "Somehow, I can't see you being _anyone's_ Susie Homemaker, especially now, but if you insist on pretending, I would be honored to play opposite you."

"My mother _cures her own meats_. Do you really think she'd send me off to college, to Yale University, without some specialized skills in the culinary department? I think she was hoping I'd land a very hungry doctor. Or lawyer. Or professor." The last one leaves her lips before she can stop it. It's a joke, but there's a reality there that may not be the best pillow talk.

Rachel ignores the comment about Quinn's professor. She doesn't need to know about the people here before her. "And instead you landed a very pettit, very Jewish girl with two roommates and a strict no meat policy. How does she feel about you being with women, anyway?"

"It was kind of hard for her, at first, just out of habit, I think. But after Beth, I think she realized there are bigger things to worry about. She even joined PFLAG and she goes antiquing with a guy she refers to as her 'gay gentleman friend.' So, she seems to be taking it okay." Quinn can't seem to stop playing with Rachel's hair. "This other thing with me, though. I haven't mentioned it, at all."

Rachel sits up, wide eyed. "You haven't told her? Hasn't she noticed that you can't be in the sunlight? Or that you look like you have the flu once a week?"

"I don't think she can really tell over Skype. And I haven't been home since..."

"Quinn! You haven't been home in years? That's awful!"

"I know, but..." Quinn shrugs and sighs. "I don't know how I'd even get there. And what would I say?"

"Well," Rachel settles back against Quinn and starts tracing her fingers absentmindedly over Quinn's knee. "You could take a red eye. And you could say, 'Hi, mom. I brought you this gourmet coffee.' Does she still drink coffee?"

"She does. I don't think she'll ever stop, so... That's a great angle, but there's still all of the other... everything else to explain." Quinn's eyes close and she smiles at the sensation of Rachel's lazy touches.

Quinn's reaction isn't lost on Rachel, and she instantly changes gears. She hasn't forgotten last night or the fact that she hasn't had Quinn yet. She drags her nails slowly up the inside of Quinn's thigh. "Well, if you want, maybe we could do some... roleplaying later on and figure it out together."

"I... uh,"Quinn clears her throat. "I don't think that's the kind of roleplaying I'd be interested in exploring with you."

"Oh?" Rachel asks in her most innocent voice. "Does that mean that there _is_ a kind of roleplaying you'd be interested in exploring with me?" She moves her fingers higher.

"I feel like, if I say yes, you're going somehow eventually end up fucking me in my kitchen while I'm wearing nothing but an apron." It's blunt, but Rachel did say she wanted to play opposite her Susie Homemaker persona. Not that Quinn has one. Yet.

Rachel groans out loud at Quinn's language. It's direct and dirty and it turns Rachel on, even though she wouldn't necessarily admit it in so many words. Quinn's vulgarity also does one other thing to Rachel: it makes her want to take Quinn.

She stops teasing immediately and pushes her hand up hard enough to make contact between Quinn's legs. She's also rearranging herself so that she can press her lips to Quinn's ear. "Is that what you want, Quinn? You want me..." Rachel bites her lip. Vulgarity is not something she herself is used to, and it doesn't feel quite right to her. "In control?"

Quinn's head falls back and hits the wall with a thump, but it's not hard enough to hurt. She's just caught by surprise, because she's never seen Rachel quite like this and it's incredibly arousing. Her entire life, Quinn has needed to control everything and she isn't sure how much of it she can give up at a time, but what Rachel's suggesting is just one, very specific thing. "I could... um..." Quinn wets her lips and tries again. "I could see that being... yes."

"God, Quinn," Rachel says, still against her ear. "I can't believe how responsive you are to this. I'm barely even touching you." Rachel wants to give this to her. She wants to be what Quinn seems to need in this moment, and she's never found a role she couldn't play convincingly. Her tone changes instantly, and she says in a low voice, "I know we don't have an apron, and we're not in the kitchen, but I could-" she wets her lips- "fuck you here against this wall."

Rachel can't believe her own words right now, but if she's honest with herself, it's exhilarating.

"Sounds like a reasonably good start." Quinn's hands are moving over Rachel, gliding up her bare arms as she rakes her eyes over the woman in front of her. The woman who _wants_ her.

Quinn is so wet already, even through her clothing and Rachel has been wanting to touch her for hours. She rubs for a second against the fabric and then she's popping the button and sliding her hand down the front of Quinn's jeans.

By the time Rachel's fingers glide through the dampness gathering between Quinn's legs, they're kissing, and Rachel groans into Quinn's mouth.

There's a groan from Quinn in reply and she's gripping Rachel's forearm as her hips rock forward, lifting up off the bed. The other night, when Rachel had her hand up Quinn's skirt, it still wasn't quite like this, with direct contact. No one has touched her like this in years and it certainly never felt this charged, before.

Rachel loses herself in touching Quinn. She's not even trying to make her come at the moment; she's just allowing herself to feel what she's doing. In the back of her mind, she knows that she promised to fuck Quinn, and she wants to, but this meandering touching is all Rachel wants to do right now, and it's a lot closer to making love than she expected it to be.

"Rachel," Quinn's practically whining and they've barely even started. When they aren't kissing, she has her forehead pressed against Rachel's, and when they are, it's like she can't get enough of Rachel's mouth against hers. Her lower body continues to undulate, but it isn't frantic. She just doesn't want the movement from Rachel's hand to stop.

The way Quinn is moving against her hand turns Rachel on even more. She kisses her way down Quinn's neck and works her mouth over Quinn's collarbone while she applies more pressure with her fingers, rubbing in tight little circles.

Quinn's fingers wrap themselves tightly in brunette hair and she tugs downward, trying to guide Rachel's mouth lower. She can feel how hard her nipples are under the red lace material of her own bra and there's a very strong desire to have Rachel's warm tongue on that part of her body.

Once Rachel realizes what Quinn needs, she complies instantly, leaving Quinn's bra where it is for the moment and kissing Quinn's nipples through the material. Having Quinn Fabray on her bed, needy and squirming, in a red lacy bra and the black jeans she wore to tech is only driving Rachel's own need higher. She licks first and then sucks lightly through the lace, her fingers never stopping, until she can't stop herself from tugging it down so that she can feel Quinn's skin against her tongue.

"Yes," Quinn's back arches away from the wall, pressing herself harder against Rachel's mouth. The sight of Rachel being there, doing that, is only further fueling the desire that's rapidly building inside of her. She drags her fingers up Rachel's side, her short nails leaving pink lines across Rachel's soft skin.

"Lie down," Rachel tears herself away long enough to instruct. Her exploring, for now, is over. She needs to have Quinn, right here, right now.

"What happened to against the wall?" Quinn asks, voice gruff from arousal. Despite the question, she's already on her back, looking up at Rachel.

"I didn't say I wasn't going to fuck you," Rachel tells her, looking down. The profanity rolls off her tongue more easily this time, but she doesn't really have time to analyze it because she's already rubbing her fingers furiously between Quinn's legs.

"Kiss me." Quinn needs all the connection she can get, right now. Her body rocks upward and she's pawing at Rachel, wanting to feel her everywhere and anywhere.

The kiss is explosive. Rachel licks at Quinn's bottom lip, and Quinn opens up to her immediately. She wants to be kissing Quinn when she comes, wants to feel Quinn's verbal reaction in her own mouth.

Rachel dips her fingers lower. "Can I...?"

"Please," Quinn replies. It's insane that Rachel's asking because of how much she desperately needs this.

Rachel doesn't tease. She gives Quinn exactly what she's asking for, and Quinn is wet and hotter than Rachel thought she'd be. It's amazing, feeling Quinn like this, and she kisses her again deeply.

This physical connection, the intensity of it, the way Rachel's touching her and moving with her, this is probably the closest thing to their psychic link from earlier as they can get, because it feels almost the same, to Quinn. Or maybe that's because they've bonded and they're still connected somehow. She has no idea. She's never felt like this with someone else and it's difficult to tell how much is just because of Rachel and how much is some kind of supernatural element that's been added into the mix.

All Quinn can tell for sure is that it feels incredibly right and real.

The way Quinn moves makes Rachel pump her hand harder. She wants this. She wants to watch Quinn's face, Quinn's body. She still can't believe that of all the people in the world, Quinn wants Rachel to be the one with her, experiencing this. She's lucky, and it makes her move with more purpose, more determination to make this good for Quinn.

It's definitely good for Quinn, but she's growing impatient and her jeans just feel like they're in the way, so she shoves them down past her hips in an effort to try and give Rachel more leverage. Her body angles up against Rachel's hand and Quinn's digging her fingertips into Rachel's shoulders.

"Right there," she whines. "Don't stop, I'm almost... oh, god."

The look on Quinn's face right now could nearly make Rachel come, herself. Rachel continues thrusting, fascinated by Quinn and everything she is. She's purposely avoided that spot on Quinn's neck because she wants this to just be them, together, no magic, no supernatural influence, but it's still like she's channeling all of her feelings into her hand so that Quinn can feel everything that Rachel feels.

She buries her face in Quinn's neck, half holding her, half balancing herself, and continues to give Quinn what she knows she needs until Quinn breaks and thrashes beneath her.

Quinn's arms loops around Rachel and she pulls until their bodies are flush against each other as she raises up off the bed one last time, shuddering as she comes. She's whimpering and murmuring without forming full words, but she's definitely making noise, which she doesn't really care about or seem to notice.

Rachel's roommates have already heard too much- if they're even awake- and Rachel presses her mouth to Quinn's, partly to kiss her and partly to swallow up some of Quinn's reaction.

It's enough to muffle most of the sound and as Quinn drifts back down from the high of her orgasm, the kisses become lazier until her head falls back against the bed and she just hugs Rachel tightly against her.

Rachel's still trying to catch her breath. She lets Quinn envelop her and just lets herself enjoy this closeness for a minute before smiling into Quinn's chest. "What kind of board games did you want to play?"


	12. Monday Morning

**Monday Morning**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

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When Rachel's door opens the next morning, Lydia is sitting at the table, spooning soggy Fruit Loops into her mouth, and dripping milk on the newspaper that's spread on the table in front of her. She looks up to see someone who is not Rachel slinking out of the room, and when she catches the girl's eye, she smirks and scoops up another spoonful of cereal.

"You must be-" Lydia does her best imitation of the way Rachel's voice sounded through the wall the previous evening- "_Quinn_."

Maybe it's embarrassing, but Quinn certainly doesn't regret being the one to make Rachel scream out her name during sex. "We actually met once, already. When you just let me in without asking who I was then disappeared so I could break into Rachel's bedroom." She still irritated about Lydia sexiling them that night, mostly because of the blatant disregard for Rachel, herself.

"Did we?" Lydia shrugs and goes back to her paper. "I guess that must have worked out for you pretty well."

"Yeah, it did." Quinn just doesn't like this girl, but she doesn't want to get into an argument with someone Rachel has to live with. "Rach, you never said whether you had food around here."

"There's granola and steel cut oats in the pantry, and I think I might still have some pineapple in the refrigerator," Rachel's voice comes from the bedroom. She's far too busy to cook, and she's the only vegan living here, so most of the food she keeps in the apartment is pre-packaged or non-perishable. She's not even entirely sure what she even has. It's been ages since she last went shopping.

Lydia is still smirking. Without looking up from the paper, she says, "Must have been some night if you're doing breakfast in bed for her."

"At least we had the decency to keep our night confined to the bedroom so other people could, I don't know, get in to their own apartment." Quinn moves to check the cupboards, but if what Rachel's just listed off is all she has to work with, she has no idea what she's going to make. She side eyes Lydia and adds, "Do you at least have the decency to disinfect the common areas after you've fucked in them?" She's standing in someone else's kitchen, wearing a pair of booty shorts Rachel classifies as pajamas and a zip-up Wicked hoodie, under which she's only wearing her bra, and yet she has no problem leaning down in front of Lydia to say, "Because I'm really not that keen on catching any particular brand of hepatitis."

Lydia looks up into Quinn's face and slowly lifts another spoonful of cereal without breaking eye contact before grinning and saying, "Herpes, actually." She takes her time chewing and then swallowing with the same grin in place before rolling her eyes and going back to her paper. It's not like she cares what some one night stand of her roommate's thinks about what she does in her own apartment.

"Look," Quin says, glaring down at Lydia. "I know you don't know me, even though we've met twice, now. But I care, a lot, about Rachel. And I know that's, like, a foreign concept to you, but if anything happens to her because you were so careless to either lock her out of her own home or assist in the contracting of some kind of STD just because you don't understand the concept of personal hygiene in shared spaces," Lydia seems to be ignoring her, so Quinn snatches the spoon out of her hand and points it at her. "I will personally hunt you down and end you." With that, she lets the spoon drop into the cereal bowl.

Lydia's grin fades and she narrows her eyes. "And I will personally call the cops and have your pasty ass thrown in jail for assault. The overprotective lover thing is cute and all, but you can't _threaten_ me in my own house." She stands up, pushing her chair back. She's done eating, anyway. "Rachel and I get along just fine, and she's a big girl. If she wants to have a discussion with me, I'm all ears, but you're right- I don't know _you_. And you don't scare me."

Lydia drops her bowl in the sink and pushes past Quinn.

Seriously. Fuck this girl.

Quinn catches Lydia's arm, just enough to stop her. "Rachel's nice to you because she's a nice person. I'm not." With that, she lets go.

"Yeah, no kidding," Lydia says. She looks down at her arm where Quinn grabbed her, and the falsely sweet voice is back. "Don't ever touch me again."

She heads to her own room, muttering, "crazy bitch," under her breath.

Quinn returns to Rachel, empty handed. "We're going to have to order in. Your kitchen is hopeless." She practically pounces onto the bed and stretches out on her side. "Oh, and I hate your roommate," she says, casually.

Rachel can't resist reaching out to touch Quinn's hair. "Jean-Pierre?" she asks sleepily. "That's odd. Most people really like him."

"No, not... I haven't met him. I meant the girl roommate who locks you out so she can have sex."

"Oh, Lydia," Rachel says, settling back down. "She's not that bad."

"She disrespectful, uncaring, and she chews with her mouth open. I don't like her." Quinn crosses her arms over her chest, but with Rachel touching her hair, it's hard to have any serious resolve.

Rachel laughs. "So don't like her. I hardly ever interact with her. We're on different schedules."

"I don't even really care that she's a bitch, I just worry that you sometimes can't get into your apartment just because she's so selfish."

Rachel smiles at Quinn's concern. "That doesn't happen very often."

Quinn tugs on Rachel's arm, wanting her to lie down against her. "I want you to be safe. And as much as I want to be here all the time to make that happen, I know that's not possible. I just thought maybe the people who live with you would have at least some interest in making sure you're okay."

Rachel lets Quinn position her so that they're lying together. "We just share the rent, Quinn. It's not their job to make sure I'm okay. It's fine."

With a frown, Quinn decides to leave it alone. Rachel has a point, but that doesn't mean her roommates should put her at risk, either. "Do you want oatmeal or do you want to just order something? Does anyone even deliver this early? I don't remember." Her hand drifts down and squeezes Rachel's ass, because that's a nice distraction from the conversation they've been having. "Or are you even hungry?"

Rachel laughs and squirms against Quinn's hand. "I'm definitely hungry. And you're handsy this morning."

"You didn't seem to mind my hands, earlier." Quinn smirks and squeezes, again, this time up near Rachel's hip.

Rachel grins up at her before stretching and rolling onto her back so she can more easily see Quinn's face. "I don't mind them _now_." She can't remember the last time she lazed about in bed like this, and it's really kind of nice.

"Good." Quinn's hand slides up Rachel's stomach, under the long sleeved t-shirt she's put back on. It probably wouldn't take much to get her back out of it and that thought leaves Quinn smirking and chuckling to herself.

Rachel's eyes drop down and back up to Quinn's face. She isn't grinning anymore; she's just watching and waiting. "I thought you wanted breakfast."

"_You_ wanted breakfast. I just want you." Quinn wonders if their entire day is going to be like this. She has no complaints if that's what happens.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Are you always this insatiable? I'm going to need to eat at some point today or I might actually faint. Proper nutrition is not negotiable, not even for..." She catches herself, and blushes. "Maybe we can order in."

"I can't have you passing out. At least not from lack of nutrition." Quinn's hand inches higher. "I can think of some other ways that might be more... interesting."

Rachel's eyes flutter as she arches into Quinn's hand. "It's... god, it's crazy how you know exactly how to touch me."

Quinn's been trying to restrain herself because Rachel seemed to want breakfast. But, for now, it seems like maybe food can wait and she's climbing on top of Rachel, pushing up the shirt to reveal midriff, then leaning down to kiss Rachel's neck and nip at her jaw. "_Exactly_, huh?"

"Quinn," Rachel whines. Quinn is on top of her, holding her down, and Rachel is moving as best she can beneath her, trying to get some type of friction. She still can't believe how quickly Quinn can turn her on.

"I really," Quinn says, dragging her lips across Rachel's skin, "need to know..." Her hands cup Rachel's breasts, under her shirt, as her mouth presses against Rachel's ear. "What you want for breakfast."

"That's not fair," Rachel says, but even though what Quinn's doing feels amazing, she also hasn't eaten since early last night. She tries to think, but it's difficult when Quinn's hands are doing _that_. "I need..." She licks her lips, tries again. "I need... fruit. And maybe a bran muffin," she finally manages.

"Ooh," Quinn replies, stretching her body out against Rachel's. "Bran muffin. Sexy."

"How many times do I need to tell you that eating healthfully is important?"

There's a very specific snappy comeback on the tip of Quinn's tongue, but she knows if she makes it, they're probably never leaving the room. Instead, she just laughs and says, "Is there anywhere around here that will deliver that?"

"As far as I know, there's not a bakery anywhere that offers muffin delivery." She rolls Quinn off of her and pulls a sweatshirt on over her head. "I'll just run up the block and pick something up."

Quinn hates that she can't just run out and get something as basic as a muffin for her- for Rachel. "You should come stay over at my place, sometime. I promise a full kitchen with vegan options."

Rachel lets herself imagine waking up in Quinn's bed. It's incredibly appealing. She smiles at Quinn. "Deal," she says, and finishes getting dressed. With one last smile at Quinn- who looks absolutely gorgeous stretched across Rachel's bed- she closes the door behind her.

Quinn takes the opportunity to search for her phone, which turns out to be under her jeans, which are pooled at the foot of Rachel's bed. She checks in with Feldman and hears that Merman is absolutely fine and back to sniffing out the gopher that's still terrorizing her garden. She hopes Rachel doesn't take long and, again, pouts over the fact that she's stuck in here, unable to slip down to the corner deli.

On her way to the front door, Rachel runs into Lydia. She waits until she gets to the coat rack and has one arm inside a jacket sleeve before saying, "Quinn said she ran into you this morning." She pulls the coat the rest of the way on and adds, "Please try to get along with her. I'll hope she'll be here more frequently, and I really would like for things to go well there. I'll try to keep her out of your hair, but... be nice, please."

"She didn't run into me. She assaulted me at the kitchen table." Lydia makes a face as she recalls the moment. "I think she's dangerous." She's on her way to the bathroom to take a shower, so she has her bath towel draped over one arm. "I don't like her."

"She's not dangerous," Rachel says sternly. "And I didn't ask you to like her. I asked you to be nice." She sails out the door and into the hallway, closing the door behind her before Lydia has a chance to respond. All she needs is to have to explain Quinn's habits to her roommates.

She frets about it all the way down to the bakery, and by the time she's gotten her food, paid for it, and come back to the apartment, she's convinced that if Quinn doesn't lay low, they'll have an enormous problem on their hands. She bangs open her bedroom door and says, "You need to be careful around Lydia. The last thing we need is to have her asking questions about your behavior." She can still hear the shower running, so she knows she won't be overheard.

Even though Quinn hears Rachel in the apartment before she opens the bedroom door, she's caught off guard when she hears Rachel's tone. "Are you mad at me?" she asks, sitting up and shutting that same copy of _Les Mis_ she read the day she spent in Rachel's closet.

Rachel softens instantly. "Perhaps I came on too strongly. That sometimes still happens. I'm not mad at you. I just think we don't need to antagonize her to the point that we have a... bigger situation than necessary to deal with."

"Perhaps you did." Quinn smirks, but it's paired with an affectionate gaze. "Maybe you need to eat your sexy bran muffin." She pats the empty space on the bed. "I'll try not to antagonize her, but I swear to god, if she pulls any shit where you're locked out or in danger, I'll- I don't know what I'll do, but I'm not above emailing Santana for suggestions."

Rachel drops to the bed next to Quinn and throws her a look. "Are you and Santana still communicating?" Rachel takes a bite of bran muffin. "Does she... know?"

"We don't talk, really. I mean, we're Facebook friends and we comment on each other's crap, occasionally. But that's it." Quinn shakes her head. "She doesn't know. No one does, except you."

That seems impossible, to Rachel. "_No one?_ Not one single person besides me knows?" God, no wonder Quinn feels so isolated and misunderstood.

"Well, you and Joan. But you're the only one who knew me before."

"I guess if you're still in contact with people from before and they don't know, you're still the same Quinn." Rachel smiles at her. "If you were this dark, hardened monster, it seems like people would notice. _Santana_ would notice."

Quinn scoffs. "Santana's busy chasing tail and getting laid." But she sees Rachel's point. "Do I seem the same to you?"

"Well, you're more mature and you have these very attractive lines around your eyes now, but you're still very much the Quinn that I came to care so much for over the years. I just want you to understand that you don't have to be alone. That's very important to me, that you realize that."

Immediately, Quinn's mouth hangs open. "I do not have lines around my eyes!" She rubs her fingers under and around her eyes, as if trying to locate the offending wrinkles in her skin. The rest of Rachel's words sink in and Quinn lets her hands fall away from her face. "You make me feel like being alone isn't even an option."

Rachel tilts her head and pops another bit of muffin into her mouth, chewing thoughtfully before she asks, "Do you really think it is?"

"What, being alone?" Quinn asks. "It's kind of been my life since, like, forever."

Rachel nods. "By your own doing."

"Uh," Quinn's actually taken aback by that. "Like when my parents kicked me out? Or when I was hit by a truck? Or when some selfish bitch decided my immortal fate without even fucking consulting me on the issue? Yeah, all my own doing." She leans against the wall, away from Rachel, because she suddenly feels like maybe they don't understand each other as much as she thought they did.

Rachel softens, even though Quinn can't see her, and sets her breakfast aside. She wants to touch Quinn, to offer some kind of physical connection right now, but the way Quinn is sitting makes her feel like her proximity may not be welcome at just this moment. "Those were all admittedly things outside of your control, and they were not fair at all," she concedes. "But I was talking about since your... since you changed. You haven't gone to see your mother, you don't talk to Beth anymore. Do you even still talk to your sister?"

"I write to Beth and Skype with Frannie every couple of weeks and Mom even more often than that. I'm not entirely reclusive." Quinn blinks because she feels like she's about to cry. "But what else am I supposed to do? You ask if other people know about me, about this... part of me. But what am I going to say? You thought I was out of my mind when I first told you."

"And then you showed me, and of course I believed you. I've only ever really seen what happens to you in the sun and that..." Rachel pauses, navigating the words, "show of strength in the park. You wouldn't have to use the word 'vampire' if you don't want to. Just let them in a little bit. There must also be other people with the same condition in this area. Maybe we could find some."

That's enough to pull Quinn out of her pity party and look right back at Rachel. "No. Rachel, no. I don't want you looking for other people like me. Because even if they're... if they have the same condition I do, you don't know what they'll do to you."

"It's very sweet for you to be this protective, Quinn, but I am not implying that I'm going to going walking around at night, looking for people who might hurt me. I just meant that you and I could maybe try to branch out and make friends together."

"You don't understand, Rachel. I may not know a lot about this culture or whatever it is, but I know that there are people in it who don't live by the same rules as some of the rest of us. I really don't have any desire to go seeking them out." Quinn draws her knees up and wraps her arms around her legs. "One of them did this to me and... I don't want it to happen to you."

Rachel can feel herself deflate. "It almost sounds like you can either be with me or you can have other people like you in your life who understand you and..." She drops her gaze. "That's not fair."

"What isn't fair is that someone took something from me that I can't ever get back. But I refuse to let that keep me from you." Quinn unwraps an arm from around herself and places her hand on Rachel's arm. "You said so yourself, I'm still me. Even with this... everything else."

"I know. I know I did, and I care about you. So much that I want you to have people in your life who know you and still accept you and love you. You can't possibly experience that until you're honest about who you are with the people who care about you."

For a moment, Quinn doesn't say anything, but then she's shaking with laughter.

Rachel humphs and then her hands are on her hips. "What could I possibly have said that's so funny?"

"Twice, I've had to-" Quinn tries to fight her giggles, enough to speak. "-to tell my parents, or at least, my mother, about something I'd done or... just was. It's not-" She clears her throat. "It's just... you're telling me to be honest with people in my life and... maybe you didn't have this experience, because of your dads, but... Rachel, I had to come out to Judy Fabray. I honestly thought the woman was going to pass out, on the spot."

Rachel fails to see the humor in this situation. "And didn't you tell me that she has a 'gentleman friend' that she now goes antiquing with on a regular basis? She's your mother, Quinn." Even as she says it, Rachel thinks of her own mother, and her mouth clamps into a frown. She's grown up quite a bit in the past several years, but the topic of her mother is still not something that she can broach easily. Maybe Quinn is right.

"I love my mom, I really do. That's part of why I _don't_ want to tell her." Quinn relaxes a little and lets her legs stretch back out. "I mean, and I know it's not the same because I didn't raise her, but I don't even know what I'd do if Beth came to me and told me... I don't know, that she's a werewolf. Like... I'd love her just the same but I'd worry. And, if I weren't the way I am now, knowing what I know, I'd seriously be worried about her mental state, because that's not something that really happens to people."

There's more at stake here than the one thing that sticks in Rachel's mind, and she can't let it go. "Oh my god, are werewolves real too?"

Again, Quinn's laughing. "I have no idea."

"Well, I'm very glad that all this is amusing you so much," Rachel says, narrowing her eyes. "You keep asking if you're still the same Quinn, and you'll be happy to know that the answer is _yes_."

"Except apparently, I have superpowers." Quinn wonders what all of that even entails and she's curious to know if she has to be in full vampire regalia to access them. Though, apparently, she doesn't, if the shared dream is any indication. She squints one eye and stares at Rachel, trying to see if she can send one of her thoughts to Rachel, telepathically.

"If you're trying flirt with me, you should know that I can't be bought," Rachel says drily. "And also, your winking is weird."

"I was trying to tell you what I was thinking," Quinn says, squeezing both eyes shut before opening them again. "But you didn't take your top off, so you either didn't hear it or you're ignoring me."

Rachel reaches for the breakfast she set aside earlier. "Either _you're _not telepathic or you didn't hear me telling you that I need to finish my breakfast."

"I'm not stopping you." Quinn decides she's tired of lying around on Rachel's bed and scoots off the edge of the mattress. Despite the fact that a thorough exercise routine is no longer necessary for her to maintain her figure, she still finds comfort in working out. This means that, while Rachel eats, Quinn drops to the floor and begins to do a set of push-ups, Cheerios-style, which is something akin to Navy Seal training and means she's not half-assing it, any which way.

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Do you really expect me to fall for that?" she asks, but it doesn't stop her from forgetting all about her breakfast and letting herself appreciate how perfectly toned Quinn's body is. Without even realizing it, she swings her legs over the side of the bed so that her feet are on the floor and she can let her eyes rake over Quinn's body at a much better angle.

This began, at least in part, as something for Quinn to do while Rachel was busy with breakfast. But now it's become something more along the lines of a seduction and Quinn has no problem stepping up her game. "No. But I might expect you to fall for this." She pushes herself up onto her knees and unzips the hoodie, quickly shedding it and tossing it over the back of Rachel's desk chair before resuming her routine in nothing but her bra and Rachel's too-short shorts. She's looking at the floor, but she's smirking every time she pushes up, because she knows Rachel's staring at her arms.

Rachel bites her lip. "You're awfully full of yourself, Quinn Fabray." Her tone is untouchable, but it's not really disguising the fact that her breakfast is now forgotten on the bed.

"You're the one who can't stop looking at me." Quinn glances up at Rachel and catches her eye, as if to confirm that, yes, Rachel's watching her.

Rachel huffs. "I happen to appreciate the beauty of the human form."

Quinn's skin is beautifully pale, and her muscles are smooth and defined. Rachel takes in her arms and her stomach and then lets herself enjoy the way her shorts look against the curve of Quinn's ass. She can feel herself blushing, but her increasing arousal is slowly winning out.

She never takes her eyes off of Quinn as she gently slides off the bed and lowers herself to the floor.

"Just trying to get a better look?" Quinn's lost count of her push-ups, by now. Not that it matters. At this point, the exercise is about self-control, because it's the only thing that's keeping her from pouncing on Rachel.

"Look who's talking," Rachel challenges. "I'm surprised you aren't already over here with your hand up my shirt."

"Please, in about five minutes, you'll be begging me to rip all of those layers off of you. If you haven't taken them off, already."

"It's endearing that you think that I'm going to _beg_ you for..." Whatever else Rachel was going to say is lost when Quinn changes to one-handed pushups. Rachel's voice trails off because now, with the way Quinn's body is twisted so she can balance, gives Rachel so much more to look at.

"I'm wondering if you can tell what I'm thinking about, _now_." Quinn holds herself up just long enough to push her eyebrow upward and take in Rachel's expression, before lowering herself back down.

Rachel laughs. "You don't have to be telepathic for me to know about something you seem to _always_ be thinking."

Quinn makes full body contact with the rug and lies there, looking up at Rachel. "Not _always_."

Rachel tries her best to keep her eyes on Quinn's face- she really does- but the way Quinn is laying pushes her backside up just right, and it's too tempting. She wants to touch, not just there but everywhere.

"Well, what about right now?" Rachel asks in a low voice, dragging her eyes back up to look into Quinn's.

There's one more final push-up and then Quinn's crawling toward Rachel, reaching out and tugging the hoodie upward. The sweatshirt comes off and she's faced with same the long sleeved t-shirt from earlier. She has no idea why this woman put on so many clothes just to go get a damn muffin, but she's determined to get her out of them. "Right now," Quinn says, "I'm still trying to get you topless." She circles around Rachel so she's behind her, hands slipping down Rachel's sides until she has a grip on the hem of the shirt and then it's up and off, just like the sweatshirt.

When Rachel leans back, it's skin on skin, and Quinn is cooler than she was an hour ago. Rachel makes something of a squeak in the back of her throat, and she reaches behind her, searching for something to grasp. She finds Quinn's hip and squeezes, trying to communicate wordlessly how much she wants to feel Quinn more tightly against her.

Quinn gets the message and she's quick to pull Rachel against her, her hands cupping Rachel's breasts through her bra, her mouth pressing kisses to the back of her shoulder. "What happened to breakfast?" she asks, her voice low and gruff with want.

There's a comment in the back of Rachel's mind, something about eating, but it's hazy, at best, and the feeling of Quinn's mouth on her skin and the hand cupping her breast are already making her desperate. "It's unbelievable how quickly you can get me wet," Rachel says, pushing back against Quinn's body.

It's practically primal, what Quinn's feeling, right now. Earlier, she was pretty sure she popped a couple stitches on Rachel's bra, but now she's pulling at it and the damn thing actually tears in half. So, yeah, she's definitely replacing that, later. Right now, though, there's no need for either of them to be thinking about shopping, because her fingers are pinching at already taut nipples and she's sucking on the skin under Rachel's ear.

The fact that Quinn can actually tear an article of clothing off of her body causes Rachel to react intensely. She groans and grips Quinn's hip with one hand and her forearm with the other. She doesn't know whether to push backward or forward at the moment.

With the way Quinn's turned her on, there's absolutely no need for preamble, and Rachel's hand slides up Quinn's forearm and wraps around her wrist enough to start it on it's way down her body.

When Quinn's hand is, once again, down beyond the waistband of the track pants, she groans against Rachel's ear with her fingers easily slip through the warmth of Rachel's arousal. "Fuck, you weren't kidding," she says. She's already circling her fingertips while her other arm is holding Rachel flush against her.

Rachel lets her set a rhythm and then she's moving easily against Quinn's body, rocking with her and rolling her hips against Quinn's hand. Quinn's arms is strong around Rachel, and she feels secure and protected, and it isn't long at all until she's got an arm over her head, gripping Quinn's hair. She can tell that she isn't going to last long this time, but she doesn't care at all.

Quinn's mouth naturally seems to seek out the pulse point under Rachel's jawline and, despite the somewhat aggressive nature of what's happening between them, her lips just ever so lightly brush over the spot. There's a familiar sensation of closeness, similar to what she feels when Rachel connects with her scar, but not nearly as strong. As her fingers circle through the slick heat below, she lets herself think something she hasn't managed to say out loud. At least not directly.

_I love you._ It's there. It's just a thought. But it's there.

Rachel has no idea how it happens- it seems like it's out of nowhere- but she's coming. She's arching her back and gripping Quinn's hair and pleasure is rolling over her in waves. She hadn't felt like she was that close, yet here she is, shaking against Quinn's body. It's intense and when it's over, she slumps and feels Quinn's strong arm holding her up.

Quinn keeps Rachel in her grasp as she leans back against the bed. She kisses her ear, neck, and shoulder, because that's all she can reach until Rachel turns around. "That might have been a record," her voice is laced with a sense of quiet amusement.

"You did something." Rachel can't even open her eyes yet, the afterglow is so intense.

That's rather vague. "Yeah, I put my hand down your pants. It's relatively standard." Quinn can't stop brushing light kisses over Rachel's shoulder.

"No, it was more than that," Rachel insists. "I wasn't even close and then... I _felt_ you, and out of nowhere..." Rachel has no idea how to explain that she's not talking about Quinn's hand. "I felt you," she says again, but even she doesn't really know what she means.

"I didn't do anything more than..." Quinn kisses Rachel's shoulder, again, then her neck. "...this." Her lips ghost over that spot, the one where she can feel Rachel's pulse. "And this."

Rachel shudders and arches once more, and she has to say, "God, you have to stop. It's almost... overload." She hopes Quinn understands but she just feels so much whenever they're together.

"Okay, okay," Quinn relents. She urges Rachel to turn around, so they're facing each other. "Here, put your arms around my neck," she says softly, taking the opportunity to gently kiss Rachel's lips.

It's soothing and comforting, and when it's over, Rachel looks into Quinn's eyes. "I really do feel incredibly safe with you," she says. "I don't think I've ever felt safer."

"I know the feeling," Quinn replies. She slips her arm under Rachel's knees and once she's sure Rachel actually has an arm looped around the back of her neck, Quinn stands up, only so she can take one step backward and sit right back down on the bed.

"You think you're so smooth," Rachel says, and her tone is full of affection. The feelings she has right now are almost overwhelming, and it makes her feel incredibly vulnerable. "Can we...?" She looks at the pillows on her bed and back at Quinn hopefully.

Quinn moves further onto the bed, pulling Rachel with her. "We're never getting out of this bed today, are we?"

Rachel laughs. "Not if I can help it. I'm usually extremely fastidious, and I'm enjoying having a lazy day with my- with you."

"With your what?" Quinn can't help herself.

"With my incredibly nosy vampire." Rachel wonders for a moment if she's gone too far, but she can't think of anything else to fill in, and she knows that Quinn won't let it go.

"That sounds like a terrible children's book." Quinn lets her head hit the pillows and she reaches out to have Rachel cuddle against her.

"If it were, Daddy would have it in his collection," Rachel murmurs, settling against her sleepily.

"It's, like, seven in the morning. How are you this tired?"

"Hmmm? Maybe it's because of whatever magic is infused in your fingers."

That makes Quinn snort with laughter. "Maybe you're just hot for me."

"One of us needs to be warmer than room temperature," Rachel says, snuggling against her. "Now, shush. I need to recover so I can return the favor."

Quinn lets Rachel settle and she's overcome with contentment. Her heart may not be beating, but it's definitely swelling with something that feels a lot like love.


	13. When It Comes to Love

**When It Comes to Love**

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**Author's Note: These are the logs from the tumblr RP between racheloffbroadway (written by vondrunkaton) and quinnsomniac. To get the full experience, it's recommended that you follow them both, but most of their core interaction will be centered here.**

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It's an odd experience, being in the theater without Rachel being present, but it's the night before they begin their full dress preview and Kelsey wanted to make some adjustments to the set while giving the cast a night off. This means Quinn's out about an hour before Rachel usually finishes, because there are no notes to be given and it's only nine-thirty when she makes her way over to Times Square.

She knows exactly where to find Rachel, because she's taken an evening shift, something she doesn't normally do, because of the show. The hope is that she'll make some extra tips and from the look Quinn gets through the window of the packed restaurant, it looks promising.

There's a party of seven in front of her, but when Quinn says she's alone, the hostess waves her through and seats her at the counter. She hopes Rachel's isn't due to clock out any time soon, because Quinn really wants to see her sing.

Another waitress asks for her order and she requests a cup of coffee and a red velvet cupcake, because she can at least give that to Rachel, later.

Rachel is busy with tables, but on the way to deliver a tray of drinks to a family of six, she spots a very familiar shade of blonde. It's packed, and it's difficult to see, but she knows it's Quinn. She sets the drinks out, looking over her shoulder for a glimpse of Quinn's face, but she just can't get a good view. On her way back, she swings by the table, and flashes a wide smile when Quinn sees her.

"I wait that section over there," Rachel says, pointing, "but you're just in time to hear me sing. I'm up the song after next."

Quinn barely has time to smile and say hello before someone's flagging Rachel down to ask for more straws. This place is hectic and she doesn't know if she'd be able to deal with the incessant questions and neediness from customers for hours at a time. She likes the flexibility her job offers, where she only has to speak with people over Skype and deal with customer service questions over email.

She can't help grinning at the thought that she's going to see Rachel perform. It's not the same as what she's been watching in rehearsals, not if the other server, a guy with a pompadour, is any indication. This seems a little more free, kind of like very talented karaoke.

It reminds her a lot of glee club. But with milkshakes and poodle skirts.

Rachel slides an order ticket across the counter at the grill and tucks the pad back into her skirt. The first notes of _Stay_ play across the PA and Rachel's already got her microphone in hand. This is the part of her job that she loves- the reason she puts up with ketchup stains on her apron and sore feet at night. She gets to sing on a regular basis for one of the most appreciative audiences she's ever encountered. Plus, her headshot is on the back of the menu and all of their promotional material, and the visibility is fantastic, especially since she's singing on _Broadway_.

She weaves through the tables, leaning back and forth, gripping her mic. The song is slow enough to showcase her talent but still fun, and the audience always loves this number, for some reason.

She hops up on the edge of a table, patrons all around her, and fluffs her poodle shirt with her free hand.

Across the room, she locks eyes with Quinn and her smile widens.

For weeks, Quinn's been watching Rachel rehearse for her play. But, just like she thought, none of that compares to this, to the raw energy of Rachel Berry singing for the sake of singing. It's still under the guise of an occupation, but this is so informal and fresh and Rachel's looking at her and making Quinn feel like she's blushing, even though she knows that shouldn't be possible.

Rachel is electric and effortless and this is exactly what some Quinn's favorite memories are made of.

She smiles back and bites her lip as she watches, because she can't help that everything about this moment makes her feel sixteen, again.

The song is over all too soon, but Rachel knows that she has one more number tonight. She holds her last note, and the applause she gets is fabulous. She scoots off the table she's been crooning on, thanking customers and fluffing her skirt, and then she's on her way to Quinn's table.

By the time she gets there, the applause has died down and there's another number starting up. She still breathless when she says, "I'm so glad you're here tonight. Do you think you be staying until the end of my shift and walking me home?" She twists slightly and looks at Quinn through her lashes, playing the part to a T.

Quinn nods, "Yeah, I'll be staying. I'd stay here all night, if I had to." That's not really a stretch, given that she doesn't sleep. She reaches out and tugs on one of the pleats to Rachel's skirt. "I've missed hearing you, like that. You're..." she shakes her head and smiles. "I don't think you actually know how amazing it is to watch you."

Rachel beams at her. She's never _not_ responded to appreciation of her talent, and Quinn has been one of the most vocal people in her life about it, after Rachel's dads of course.

She stoops and presses a kiss to Quinn's cheek. "You don't have to. My shift ends in thirty minutes, and then I'm all yours."

She has to get back to her tables, but she can't help but linger for just a moment longer so that she can appreciate how happy Quinn looks right now, in this moment.

The public affection makes Quinn suddenly aware of how many people are in the space around them, but then she's proud to be the one Rachel kisses (even just on the cheek) in front of all of them. 'Yes, that girl who just sang the crap out of that song is my- well, she's mine.'

And Rachel's just reassured her that it's very much a reality. "All mine, huh?"

Rachel just flashes her best show smile and flounces away, making sure that her poodle skirt swishes properly for the right effect. She goes back to waiting her tables, keeping an eye on Quinn, who switches back and forth between watching the other performers with polite interest and looking at Rachel. Occasionally she'll sip her coffee, but Rachel knows that she's only here for her, and to have someone in her life who's interested in being here is just... well, it's more than she's had in a long time.

It makes her feel fluttery.

The other people performing are definitely good and she can see how a place like this would draw in talent. It's literally on Broadway, it's a chance to regularly sing for an audience, and it increases the chance in being seen by "the right person." And here, Rachel still has everyone beat. She's effortless when she sings, she's vibrant, she's all about entertaining and not just singing the lyrics that are projected on the screen.

Her server refills her coffee and smiles at her. "I figure you must be Quinn," she says.

"How do you-" Well, okay, maybe that's a dumb question. "Yeah, I am."

That's the end of the exchange, but not before the waitress winks at her. Quinn wonders just how much Rachel's said about her or if it was just a comment in passing and this woman has a great memory.

Either way, it's nice to be someone who comes up in conversation.

Rachel puts in orders and refills drinks and slides plates onto tables until it's her turn to sing again. She's far too busy to keep an eye on Quinn while she's serving, but once the microphone is in her hand again and she's not Waitress Rachel but Performer Rachel, it's much easier to make eye contact and smile and swish by Quinn's table.

She doesn't ignore her other customers. When she's singing like this, she's lost in the music and her connection with the entire restaurant flows outward. She'll never get over this feeling; this feeling of all eyes on her, smiling, clapping, singing along. When it's over, she curtsies and beams at the applause and then she's at the counter with Quinn once more.

"I need to talk to Tony and then I'll be out," she tells her. The thought of walking home with Quinn tonight is more exciting than it has been previously for some reason. Maybe it's the thrill of performing that's still pulsing through her.

Quinn catches Rachel's hand and tugs her closer, knowing she can't really kiss her, right then and there, but the thought's in the front of her mind. Her eyes wander up and down Rachel's body and she has to remind herself that Rachel's probably waiting for her to say something.

"Hurry," she finally says, giving her hand a squeeze before letting go.

Rachel feels like she's on fire, and all it takes is literally one word from Quinn. She blushes and all the way back to the kitchen, she can't stop smiling.

She waits out the rest of shift as patiently as she can, but all she wants is Quinn's hand in hers right now.

It's over soon enough and- though she's happy to be making some extra cash- she can't wait to get Quinn alone.

She pulls Quinn's jacket on over her uniform just as she gets to Quinn's table. "Ready?"

"Very." Quinn loves the sight of Rachel in her old letterman's jacket, though her mind is quickly overtaken with thoughts of getting Rachel out of it. And the rest of her clothes. When did she become so sexually charged? It can't just be the vampire thing, because she's been pretty content to paint ugly furniture and work her vegetable garden up until recently. It's Rachel who brings it out of her, because Rachel makes her feel so much.

Rachel makes her feel everything.

And Rachel isn't sure whether she'll ever get used to the way Quinn looks at her. It's thrilling and it makes her feel desirable and protected and daring all at once.

She also can't stop smiling and when Quinn leads her through the door outside, she doesn't stop herself from pressing against Quinn's side, so that they're walking very closely together.

"Did you enjoy the show?"

"I did. I think it should have been longer, though. You... Rachel, you really need to be in a place where you're singing for people, more often." Quinn knows this isn't news to Rachel, but she feels compelled to say it. Her arm slips around Rachel's shoulders as they walk. "Did you need to stop anywhere or do you just want to head back to your apartment?"

"My apartment," Rachel says. "And thank you. My dads have always believed in me but other than them, it's just been..." She's suddenly got the feeling that she's talking too much. What if what she feels is too much? What if Quinn thinks she's silly? It's too late to take it back, and she doesn't want to change it. "You," she ends up finishing softly.

"I don't think anyone we used to know ever doubted you," Quinn says. She squeezes her arm a little tighter and it results in something like a walking side-hug. "But I definitely believe in you and I... I think we should find you a venue or something. The play's great but... you love singing and you're so incredible at it. People should be seeing you. They should be paying to see you."

Rachel turns wide eyes up at her. "How do you do that?"

"I don't know, I guess we'd have to look and see who's looking for talent. Or... maybe open mic nights? You've been here longer, so you probably know better than I do."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "While the idea that I would be asking you how to market myself is amusing, I _meant_, how do you make it seem like it's completely unbelievable that I haven't made it yet?"

Quinn stops, right in the middle of the sidewalk, causing a couple following closely behind them to mutter under their breath as they pass by. "Because it is. Rachel, you're the most talented person I've ever met. And I don't know why someone out here hasn't picked up on that, by now, but they're going to. They have to."

The only possible response is for Rachel to lift herself on her toes and press her lips to Quinn's. They haven't discussed how either of them feels about displaying affection in public, and it's a fairly chaste kiss, so Rachel hopes that it's okay that she's taken the liberty.

Quinn's hand catches behind Rachel's neck and she kisses her again, longer this time. When she lets go she smiles at Rachel. "You're going to be so famous that you'll be taking me out to five star restaurants three times a week and letting me be your date to the Tonys. Well, okay, maybe the couple of times you can take one of your dads, but eventually..." It's a fantasy future, but it's still the idea of one with both of them and she realizes they haven't really talked about the long term, yet. She just shakes her head and pulls Rachel close as they resume walking. "Come on."

Rachel laughs and lets Quinn lead her down the sidewalk. "Do you really want to be my date to the Tonys?" It's something she can still see in her mind, even if it does seem less vibrant to her than it did a decade ago. Though, she's also never pictured herself looking out into the audience and seeing Quinn there, looking beautiful and proud. It really makes the fantasy into something amazing, breathes new life into it, and Rachel feels herself feel with the old ambition she used to feel when she was first starting out. "That would be... really amazing," she says dreamily, and for just a few moments she allows herself to be lost in this idea of achieving her dreams and having Quinn there in the front row.

"A chance to wear an overpriced dress with matching shoes?" Quinn asks. "Of course, I do." There is one particular detail that's necessary to clarify, though. "It's at night, right?"

"Yes, and the travel time is minimal. You'd be able to attend without fear of..." Rachel throws her a sideways glance. This is still a delicate topic. "Aggravating your condition." She laughs. "Like whether you can come is the biggest obstacle. I need to be nominated first. God, I need to be _performing_ first."

Quinn laughs right along with her. "You're right. Maybe we should focus on the first part." They're in front of Rachel's building, so while she waits for Rachel to find her key, Quinn lets herself fantasize a little bit longer about walking the red carpet with Rachel, watching her talk to the press, sitting with her during the show, and being there, in person, to see her accept an award. It has to happen, because it's what Rachel was meant to do. And she wants to be there, first hand, to witness it.

Once the door is open, she leans against it and gives Quinn what she hopes is her steamiest come-hither look. "Would you like to come up?" she asks, dropping her eyes and looking back up through her eyelashes.

They aren't quite out of public, yet, but Quinn can't seem to find a reason why it matters when she steps up and deeply kisses Rachel, her hands clinging to the front of the red and white jacket. "I think you know the answer to that," she says, her voice low.

"Oh," Rachel breathes when they break apart. "I was just teasing you, but... yes, let's go up." She laces her fingers through Quinn's and leads her through the lobby to the elevators. "I forgot how instantly you can get... serious." It's not exactly what she means, but when they pass a man in a wool peacoat, Rachel feels like decorum is in their best interest.

The ride up to Rachel's floor is quick and uneventful, though Quinn's mind is reeling with the possibilities of what they can and will be doing when they get into the apartment. "It's not... I'm not too... serious... all the time, am I?" She's suddenly concerned that her libido might be tied to the fact that she isn't technically human and maybe it's unfair to assume that Rachel's operating at the same pace. "I've just never been with someone who makes me so... you're just unlike anyone else."

Just as they get to Rachel's door, she spins and presses Quinn against the wall. "Understand this right now. You're not... too _serious_ for me. In fact, I like how serious you are." She pulls herself off of Quinn and straightens herself up. When she gets Quinn inside her apartment, she'll show her how serious she herself can be. She turns the key in the lock and pushes, and then, when the door doesn't give way, she's shooting a familiar look over her shoulder.

"What?" Quinn looks at the door, then reaches over to try and push it open. "She's can't be..." But it seems as if Lydia is up to her traditional antics, once again. "Rach, this isn't okay." She's torn between pounding on the door and breaking it down, but the latter seems like it would cost Rachel her security deposit. "Do you want me to yell at her? I can definitely yell at her."

Rachel slumps. "No, I don't want you to yell." She's absolutely deflated. "I wanted to..." She gestures up and down at Quinn's body. "I wanted to be alone with you tonight."

"Hey," Quinn gently brushes Rachel's bangs aside. "Why don't you just come home with me? I know it's not convenient, but you don't work tomorrow, right? And dress rehearsal isn't until the evening. Besides, Merman keeps asking about you."

Rachel perks up a little. "You want me to come home with you?" She leans into Quinn's touch against her face, and then smiles. "I would love to see Merman again, actually."

"I also don't have roommates, so we don't have to be quiet," Quinn adds, with a smirk.

"Oh, I..." Rachel realizes she has nothing to say to that and snaps her mouth shut so violently that it's audible. "Oh."

The second they're out of the building, Quinn's hailing a cab and telling the driver to take them to Grand Central. It's going to be at least two hours before they get to New Haven, so she's trying to occupy her mind with something other than wanting to strip Rachel down and make her writhe around. And thoughts just like that aren't helping anything.

The train ride could potentially be impossible for both of them. There's already an energy flowing between them, and Rachel knows that spending a few hours on a train with Quinn could definitely get out of hand.

"New Haven, Connecticut," she corrects and when Quinn protests, she gives her a look. "It will be so much faster," she whispers, and Quinn finally complies.

It's still a long way, and it will be more expensive, but Rachel is grateful for the privacy. There's something she's been wanting to explore since she first stumbled onto Quinn's scar, and there's nothing to stop her now from lifting her hand and ghosting her fingertips over it in the gentlest caress.

The touch causes Quinn's eyes to flutter shut, because it's a sensitive spot, even just superficially. She quickly forces them back open, though, and looks at Rachel. "No one's ever stayed the night at my place, before."

"Not even... _Joan_?" Rachel asks quietly. There's something about Quinn's whatever-she-is (ex-girlfriend? ex-wife? something else entirely?) that makes Rachel extremely uncomfortable. She feels a lot of things right now, wondering about this horrible woman who took Quinn's innocence and mortality without asking. She took it for herself, and didn't even ask! Her fingers are still on Quinn's scar and she can easily see a face in her mind. It's a woman she's never met before, but she can see her very clearly. And Rachel doesn't like her at all.

Quinn shakes her head. "I didn't move in there until about a year after everything. Before that, I was in the apartment where I lived during junior and senior year. I know you never saw it, but..." She feels like Rachel still knew about that place, because they were still Facebook friends and she knows random things about Rachel's life from that time, even though they had stopped communicating. "Anyway, as you know, I wasn't really that happy with Joan after it happened." Her head tips to the side, closer to Rachel. "And we were never married, so... I think ex-girlfriend is the accurate term."

"Yes, I know you were never married, but girlfriend seems a little casual for the bond the two of you-" Rachel narrows her eyes. "I never said you were married."

Quinn sighs. "Okay, maybe not in those exact words, but you said you weren't sure if she was my ex-girlfriend or my ex-wife. Or something else."

Rachel pulls back and stares at her. "I never _said_ that. Those words, I mean. I never said _anything_ about that."

"You did. You-" For a second, Quinn can't figure out why Rachel is arguing with her over something that isn't even worth fighting over, then she realizes she didn't actually _hear_ Rachel say it. "But you... were thinking it."

When she realizes what Quinn is saying, Rachel's mouth drops open and she pulls her fingers away from Quinn's neck. The pale face with the sneer dissipates, and she can remember vague details but it's no longer like she's looking at a picture. "You heard me think?"

Having someone else in her head is an unsettling thought. Even though she trusts Quinn and she wants to be close to her, there's a certain privacy that's just... it's not okay to just have no barriers at all. Not to have a choice. She's not sure how to feel right now. "Did you... hear anything else?"

"I didn't even know I was..." Quinn shifts in the seat to face Rachel a little more. "It's not something I knew I was able to do, actually. And, right now, I can't..." She concentrates on trying to see if she's picking up on anything, but all she hears is the video playback on the screen in the backseat and Rachel's breathing. "There's nothing, Rach. I promise."

Rachel relaxes. "It's not like I have anything to hide from you, it's just a little... it's not something that's supposed to happen." She ducks her head. "And anyway, I think I saw something too. I didn't mean to, but this woman popped into my head and I've never seen her before. Long blonde hair, blue eyes, leather jacket?" Rachel has a feeling she knows exactly who she saw, and she hopes she's wrong. The woman is gorgeous, even if she is horrible.

Now it's Quinn's turn to be surprised. "That, um, that sounds a lot like Joan." This is weird, this connection they have. It's resulted in some very incredible experiences, but if it also means Rachel can see her thoughts and memories, it means she's liable to be expose Rachel to things doesn't want her to see. The privacy issue is part of it, but there are just images and moments from her life that she doesn't wish on anyone.

"I think," Rachel doesn't take her eyes off of Quinn's face. "I think that it only happens when..." She gently lifts her hand and stops with her fingers hovering over Quinn's neck. "Can I...?"

"Hold on, Quinn says. She closes her eyes and clears her mind of everything that just surfaced. If Rachel's going to try to take a peek, Quinn wants her to see something pleasant. Ultimately, she settles on something fresh and recent, it's Rachel singing at the diner and it's easy to recall, because Quinn couldn't take her eyes off of her. "Okay."

Rachel nods and then, taking a deep breath, closes her eyes and grazes her fingers across the scar raised over Quinn's skin. She tried so hard to see something- anything- and she can't. It's just her. The feeling is still there, the energy, as strong as ever. But no Joan, no Quinn, no real thoughts of any kind other than her own.

As much as Quinn's trying to stay on the one specific memory of Rachel, her mind begins to wander and she's quickly shifted to something not quite as recent, but the theme is the same, at least as far as wardrobe. She's recalling the last time Rachel came to her house, the day of Merman's emergency. Specifically, she's thinking about their afternoon in bed together and it's certainly enough of a pleasant memory to draw the corner of her mouth upward into a half-smile.

Quinn's house is suddenly in Rachel's mind. It's warmer than she remembers it, but it's not just the temperature. It's the color and the feeling and just... everything, and Rachel smiles. She's on her way there now, to be with Quinn. And then she remembers what happened the last time she was there, and the blush floods her cheeks. The last time she was there, she'd been in Quinn's bed, sucking on her neck and then Quinn had...

"Sorry," Rachel murmurs, and tries her best to concentrate on how they sat at the table in Quinn's kitchen and held hands. It's a good memory, but again it seems much warmer to her she remembers it.

"You shouldn't be," Quinn says. Her hand rests on Rachel's leg, her thumb stroking across the fabric of the skirt. "You were there. And I can't think of a single thing from that day that requires an apology."

"It was a very good day," Rachel agrees. She settles back into Quinn and continues stroking her neck lightly with her thumb. "Is this okay?"

"It does make me a little nervous about where my mind might wander," Quinn admits. "But I don't want to have secrets from you. Even though..." she rests her hand over Rachel's and stills the motion for a moment. "There are things I've seen that... they're not good. So, we should be careful."

"If you want me to stop, please tell me." Rachel's voice is soft and murmured into Quinn's shoulder. "I just want to see what all of this means, and I can't help wanting to be close to you."

Quinn nods and rests her head against Rachel's. She feels so content when they're together and Rachel's desire for closeness just makes all of this feel so incredibly right. She relaxes and sighs at the sensation of fingertips lightly tracing the spot on her neck and she doesn't even realize what's just rolled across the landscape of her mind until she hears it echoed back to her in her own head.

_And I can't help that I love you._

The fingers against Quinn's neck don't stop moving, but they still considerably as Rachel absorbs what she's just heard. Except that, she's looking for this mental, emotional connection and she knows that Quinn hasn't said anything out loud. It still doesn't make it any less true that it's what she feels. Except that now, it's what both of them feel.

Other than her caress against the scar and sucking her bottom lip ever so slightly, she doesn't move. "Will you say it out loud?" she finds herself asking softly.

This isn't a new feeling. It's technically been around, under the surface since well before they started speaking to each other, again, let alone since they started sleeping together. But, other than their shared dream the other night, Quinn's done her best to keep it to herself, because all of this is new and Rachel's still accepting all of her differences and so much could go wrong.

Except none of that changes this.

Quinn turns her head and nuzzles the side of Rachel's face. Her lips brush over her cheek, then she's whispering in Rachel's ear. "I love you."

Rachel ducks and leans into Quinn, the smile she can't keep at bay enveloping her face. This moment, this time in the back of this cab with Quinn with the New York nighttime going by out the window, it's everything she's wanted in a relationship since high school. And for the first time, she's finally mature enough to appreciate it for what it is. She knows that Quinn isn't perfect, and she's not expecting perfection out of her. Her diet alone is- well. It's not what Rachel would have chosen for herself, but she also feels so safe and respected and, yes even cherished, that she wouldn't trade it for a thousand throw-away relationships with people she thought were 'perfect.'

This is what she wants. This cab ride. This night. This woman.

She kisses Quinn's neck softly and then nuzzles her. "In the past I've always rushed this part and declared love prematurely, but this time... I've really thought about it." She's smiling again. "I love you too, Quinn. I think in some way, I always have, even when it was mostly admiration."

Quinn really needs this cabbie to drive faster. Not because she wants to have sex- well, not _just_ because of that, but because she wants to be alone with Rachel. Because she wants to show her what her words mean, as much as she can. Though, she can't help but think part of it's obvious, given that she shows up to walk Rachel home on a regular basis or that she physically handled two thugs who planned to do Rachel harm. She hasn't exactly been passive in demonstrating her feelings. They just didn't have a declared title, at the time.

She wonders what this means for them. Are they girlfriends now? Oh god, if they are, this means Rachel's going to somehow drag her back to Lima, she just knows it. It'd be worth it, though, if it means Rachel's genuinely hers.

"You _do_ show it," Rachel tells her, still hiding her face against Quinn. "And," she sits up so she can look into Quinn's eyes once more. "I wouldn't mind being exclusive with you. If you're asking." The smile probably gives her away, but she doesn't care. She's elated right now.

As much as Quinn appreciates this additional connection they have, she needs to specifically communicate what she's about to say. She wraps a gentle hand around Rachel's wrist and leads the hand away from her neck. Their fingers tangle together and she sets their joined hands in her lap.

"I'm asking," she says. "Because you're who I want to be with. Because I believe in you. Because you're the most incredible person I've ever known. And because you've never, not once, ever given up on me."

It's breathtaking, this show of sincerity of Quinn's part. Rachel doesn't know exactly what to say to this woman sitting next to her who's making a very simple, very earnest declaration of love and commitment. The same woman who lied for months about the identity of the father of her child, who cheated to give Rachel a prom night worth remembering.

It's overwhelming how much Rachel feels for her. "Yes," she finally says, and it's like everything between them finally clicks into place for her.

Quinn feels warm energy course through her body. Happiness. She isn't used to it. Not the real stuff. Her lips brush over Rachel's. If she initiates anything else, they're likely to end up getting kicked out of the cab.

"And you saved my dog's life, so you're pretty much his favorite."

"Well, as it happens, I'm very fond of him, too. And I'm also very excited to stay with you tonight. Lydia might actually be a blessing, in this case." Rachel can tell that Quinn is interested in more than cuddling at the moment, but the back of a cab is not the place. She settles for touching the back of Quinn's hand with her fingertips all the way out to New Haven.

When the cab finally stops in front of Quinn's house, Quinn quickly swipes her card, because there's no way she's making Rachel pay for the ride.

As the cab pulls away, she leads Rachel up the front walk, but they only make it about halfway before Merman rounds the corner, wagging his tail and barking at them.

"Quiet, you. You'll wake up the neighbors." She pats his head and he obediently walks next to her as they climb the steps of the porch.

"How did you train him to be so good?" Rachel asks. "We had a puppy once and he whined all night for weeks. It wasn't until he chewed up daddy's autographed poster of Vincent Price as Francois Delambre that he finally had to go." Rachel peers around Quinn at Merman. "Poor Tony Bennett. That's what dad named him."

"I don't know, he just listens to me. Usually." Quinn really hasn't done anything out of the ordinary to make Merman respond so well to her. "I like to think that we just needed each other at the same time." She twists her key in the lock and flips on the lightswitch, which is something she doesn't tend to do when she's alone.

"I think that's incredibly sweet," Rachel tells Merman as if he can understand her. "Thank you for looking after Quinn."

Merman barks, but it's most likely because he thinks Rachel has more dog treats with her.

"Let me just feed him and then we can... go upstairs." Quinn tugs on the front of the Cheerios jacket and quickly kisses Rachel.

Rachel follows Quinn into the kitchen and leans against the counter with her elbows propping her up. "You want to take me upstairs?" she asks in a suggestive voice.

"I want to take you everywhere," Quin replies, just as suggestively. Well, as suggestively as she can while she's scooping dog food out of a big plastic bin.

"Well, maybe you should-" Rachel does her best to make her voice sound like Quinn's did in the diner. "_Hurry_."

That makes Quinn glance up as she's filling Merman's bowl and results in spilling kibble all over the kitchen floor. Fortunately, he's fine with eating right off the linoleum.

Rachel's smile is wide and innocent. "You're not being very careful."

This back and forth, this flirting, is something she's come to enjoy very much.

Quinn tosses the scoop back in the bin and playfully elbows Rachel out of the way so she can wash her hands. She doesn't say anything as she dries them on the handtowel that hangs by the sink, then she looks at Rachel for a long moment.

When she springs into action, it's quick and she hopes it doesn't startle her girlfriend when she bends down and tosses Rachel over her shoulder.

"I guess you'd better hope I don't drop you all over the floor," she says, walking them toward the doorway.

Rachel squeals when Quinn picks her up and honestly it's kind of thrilling just how effortless it seems. She's breathless and laughing as Quinn takes them through the house and up the stairs. She can't help sliding her hand down Quinn's backside and squeezing.

"That doesn't seem like a good way to make sure you don't get dropped," Quinn laughs.

They're in her room, now, and she unceremoniously leans forward to let Rachel fall onto the bed.

Rachel lands with a soft "oomph" and lays there, breathless and looking up at Quinn. She's overwhelmed with the feeling of adoration. "You're so beautiful," is the only thing she can think of to say.

It's instinct for Quinn to laugh softly and shake her head. She knows she's pretty, she's banked a lot of her life's successes on it. Beautiful, though... it's not an attribute she's used to claiming for herself.

Rachel is the one who's beautiful, gazing up at her, still wrapped up in Quinn's high school jacket. The fact that her hair is back in a ponytail really completes the look and Quinn's lost for a moment in the thought of some alternate universe where Rachel was a Cheerio and it's conjuring up images of what she might look like in the uniform.

"Hey," Rachel reaches up and runs her fingers through Quinn's hair. "Where did you just go? You got this really far away look in your eyes."

"Hmm?" Quinn recenters her mind and smiles back at Rachel. "I was just caught up in a very specific 'what if' scenario. Which we can definitely talk about, later. Right now, though..." Her hands slip into the opening of the coat and casually cop a feel through Rachel's work shirt. "I'd much rather get you out of all this and focus on what's actually happening."

Feeling Quinn's hands on her still makes her eyes flutter. In fact, this entire encounter has Rachel's heart racing. "Though I would definitely like to hear what you have in mind for this 'what if' scenario, I'm very much in favor of you having your way with me right now." Rachel smiles up at her. "I've also just finished a shift at work, and I feel like I smell like the diner. Would you mind if I... freshened up a little bit before you... get me out of all this?"

Quinn feels a little bit like she might explode if she has to wait much longer, but the extended anticipation is also pointing toward a more satisfactory payoff.

It's difficult to keep herself from kissing Rachel, but she says, "Clean towels are under the sink." She nods toward the master bathroom before giving in and pressing their lips back together.

Rachel moans into the kiss before pulling away. "Mmm, nice try." She feels like she's been smiling for the past several days. "I'll be right back."

She scoots out from under Quinn and sashays her way to the bathroom. She can feel Quinn's eyes on her and she's never been one to deny an audience. She shrugs out of Quinn's jacket and drapes it over the arm of the chair in the corner before throwing a look over her shoulder and winking.

She doesn't wait for any kind of reaction before shutting the door and turning on the water.

Quinn lies on the bed with her hands over her eyes. Knowing Rachel is about to be hot, wet, and naked in the next room isn't making it any easier to wait.

And, oh god. What if Rachel sings in the shower?

Rachel takes her time. She knows that Quinn is waiting and what she's waiting for, and Rachel can't resist taking control in this situation. She washes, slowly, and lets the water run over her, the same smile still making her cheeks ache. She wonders if, when she gets out, if Quinn will still be laying on the bed waiting for her. She wonders if they're going to spend hours kissing. She wonders if Quinn will just push her down on the bed and slide her hand down Rachel's body.

When she can't stand it any longer, she shuts the water off and steps out onto the mat. She dries her hair on a towel that's under the sink, right where Quinn said it would be, and then she sees the t-shirt hanging on the back of the door. It's gray and has the WMHS logo on the front, and Rachel only hesitates a moment before she pulls it over her head without drying off. She also pulls her panties on because there's no reason to give the impression that she's easy. The last touch is running her fingers through her hair, and then she's ready to present herself to Quinn.

The idea of presenting herself sends a shiver down her spine. She takes a moment to compose herself before pulling the door open.

"I hope you don't mind, but I borrowed your shirt," Rachel says, stepping into Quinn's bedroom.

Quinn, in an effort to prevent herself from imploding from sexual frustration, is in the process of distracting herself by changing out of her clothes and into something more bedroom appropriate. She's only gotten so far as to shed her shirt and socks and she's pulling one leg out of her jeans when Rachel appears in the bathroom doorway.

Her foot catches in the denim and she's quickly toppling over, face-first, onto the rug.

"Oh my god, Quinn!" Rachel is by her side in an instant. Once she realizes that Quinn is fine, she says, "Aren't you supposed to have faster than normal reflexes or... something?"

"I..." Quinn kicks off the offending pants and looks up at Rachel, who manages to be glistening, on top of the fact that she's showing off her incredible legs and looking absolutely gorgeous without even trying. "Did you even use a towel?"

Rachel puts her hands on her hips. "If you would like me to go back into the bathroom and really take my time, I would be more than happy to grant you your request."

"No, don't..." Quinn's quick to find her feet and stand back up. "It's just that the, um, my shirt is... it's clingy and you look..." She's trying hard to force her eyes up to Rachel's face, but they keep wandering across the length of Rachel's body. Her tongue wets her lips and she tries to find the right words, any words, for what she's trying to say.

It doesn't take a psychic connection for Rachel to know where Quinn's mind is right now, and she's feeling every bit as keyed up, especially since Quinn is wearing less clothing than she is. "You know, you can touch as well as look. It's a liberty I grant all of my sexual partners."

Quinn's eyebrow shoots up and she's immediately slipping her hands around Rachel's waist and pulling her in. "It's about to be my mission to make you forget anyone else ever touched you," she says. She isn't even sure exactly how she plans to follow through, but given the way that Rachel's nipples are straining against the worn fabric of the old t-shirt, Quinn's positive she'll be able to improvise.

"So far from my vantage point, it seems like you talk a big game, Quinn Fabray," Rachel says. She knows that things can get incredibly intense between, incredibly fast, and that's exactly what she wants right now. Even now, the contact between them feels electric. Rachel's whole body is humming, and Quinn's barely touching her.

Already, Quinn's fingers are tugging up the bottom of the shirt, trailing over damp skin. "Please, you're the biggest talker I've ever met." They're nearly close enough to be kissing, but Quinn isn't closing the final space between them. Instead, she's looking down and watching her own handiwork as she slowly but steadily moves the shirt upward, leaving Rachel's stomach exposed.

Rachel likes Quinn's eyes on her. She's been taking care of herself; working out and eating right (even if it's never from her own kitchen), and she knows that she looks good. She goes back and forth between watching Quinn's hands and watching her face. They could be kissing, but whatever it is right now that's holding Quinn captive has Rachel waiting and watching to see where it will lead.

She wants Quinn's hands on her body so badly. Her nipples are almost painfully hard, and if Quinn doesn't touch them soon, there's no telling what she might do.

One of Quinn's arms loops around Rachel's back, her hand splayed against the dampness of Rachel's skin. She pulls them together, while her other hand hand wastes no time in seeking out Rachel's breast. Quinn gasps at the firmness she feels against her palm and she can't resist Rachel's lips any longer.

The strong arm around Rachel's back is holding her steady and it's a good thing because Quinn's assertiveness makes all the strength go out of Rachel's legs. She slides her hands up Quinn's biceps to her shoulders and lets herself get lost in returning Quinn's kiss. Quinn's hand is squeezing and driving her arousal higher, and she moans into Quinn's mouth. When she feels her nipple being pinched, she breaks away, gasping for breath. "I need you," she says against Quinn's mouth before pressing their lips together again.

They twist as Quinn turns them and then they're falling onto the bed with Quinn's shoulder taking the weight of the fall. She grunts in response, then pushes Rachel onto her back.

"You're already so wet," she says. Not only can she feel Rachel against her thigh, but she can sense it otherwise, too.

"I told you," Rachel says breathlessly, and arches against Quinn. Quinn's thigh pressing between her legs is enough to make her crazy, but then Quinn's hand is also still covering her breast, and Rachel only wants more.

It's almost alarming, how desperate Rachel feels, this quickly, but their connection has always been intense, and this is just... "Quinn, _please_."

Instantly, Quinn's pushing the shirt up higher, kissing Rachel's neck, then sucking on the soft flesh of her now exposed breast. But she doesn't stop there, she moves lower, dragging her mouth over dancer's abs, which Rachel manages to maintain, even though she isn't dancing in any of her performances.

She kisses a hip bone and looks up at Rachel, fingers toying with the elastic band of the underwear.

"Can I...?" she asks, even though she's sure she knows the answer, already.

The sight of Quinn Fabray between her legs, looking up at her, asking for permission to... It's not something that Rachel Berry has ever dared to imagine, but now that it's happening, she has no idea why the thought never crossed her mind. Quinn is the sexiest, most gorgeous thing she's ever seen when she's got an apron on and paint all over her hands, but this... it redefines sexy.

Rachel lifts her hips, trying to get them closer to Quinn's mouth. She's insanely wet, and once she feels Quinn's mouth on her for the first time, she's liable to black out. The best she can do is a whine and a furious nod of her head.

Quinn smirks against the skin of Rachel's stomach, then kisses it before sliding even further downward. The panties are already soaked and Quinn would be able to smell Rachel's arousal even without any superhuman ability. She can tell how much Rachel wants her to do this and the desire for it to happen is certainly mutual, though Quinn may be a little over-excited because as she yanks down Rachel's underwear, she manages to rip them in half. There's a glance back up to her girlfriend but Quinn only sees need in Rachel's eyes, so she quickly discards the torn garment and dips her head down, taking in everything about this moment as her mouth makes contact with the most intimate part of Rachel Berry.

Having her panties torn from her body is a first for Rachel, but she tries to concentrate on the most important thing at hand: Quinn's mouth. At first, she lies still and breathes through her nose, trying desperately to remember every last detail, but it soon becomes much too difficult and she's working herself with slow upward thrusts against Quinn's tongue.

Her breathing is labored, and she's already covered in a thin sheen of sweat. It feels _so_ good, what Quinn is doing.

"You're..." Rachel struggles to get her thoughts into words. "You're very... good at this."

Quinn isn't really in a position to comment, though she's glad to hear she hasn't fallen out of practice. It's the first time she's been with anyone like this in years and now that her senses are heightened, the intensity of this moment is astronomical. When she looks up, she can see the way Rachel's moving, the sexy way she rolls her body each time Quinn makes a specific movement. She's surrounded by Rachel, lost in the sight and sound of her, the smell and taste of her.

She slides her arms under Rachel's thighs, trying to get the best angle possible. One hand rests on Rachel's stomach, tracing fingers over the sweat-slick skin, the other finds Rachel's hand and locks their fingers together. Quinn wants as much connection as she can get, because she's in love and she wants that to be absolutely clear.

She also wants to drive this woman writhing against her to an incredible, mind-blowing orgasam. Judging from the sounds Rachel's making, Quinn's pretty sure she's on the right track.

Rachel's free hand gets flung over her head, blindly grasping for a fistful of Quinn's bedspread. Her hips are moving more quickly now, almost frantically, driven by the overwhelming need that's building inside of her.

"I'm... god." She's so close, so fast. She wants to make it last, but Quinn just does things to her. She forces her eyes open and the sight of Quinn with her mouth on Rachel's body, her own gaze locked intensely on Rachel's face, makes Rachel tense and arch immediately with the pleasure that's coursing through her.

Quinn's own body is having difficulty keeping still and she actually isn't even sure when her hips started rocking against the mattress. There's nothing really there to generate any friction, but it doesn't keep them from moving, especially with the noises Rachel keeps making. It's really a very good thing they aren't at Rachel's place, because there would undoubtedly be commentary from roommates and neighbors.

She stays her course and gives Rachel's hand a squeeze, still looking up at her. Rachel is sweaty and panting and having trouble keeping her eyes open. Quinn can't think of a time she looked any sexier than she does, right now.

Rachel's still arching, and there's one last wave of pleasure and her thighs are clamping around Quinn's head as her body jerks and she finally comes undone.

She can't open her eyes, can't catch her breath, can't even feel the bed beneath her anymore, so she reaches out her arms and hopes that Quinn understands what she needs right now.

There's a moment where Quinn allows herself to gloat over the fact that Rachel seems to be unable to speak, but it's outweighed by the fact that she wants to be holding Rachel in her arms. She presses a sticky kiss to Rachel's thigh, then wipes her hand over her mouth before she climbs upward and settles next to Rachel, pulling her into a hug.

Rachel feels so incredibly happy right now. The weight of Quinn's body next to hers, the cool skin, the way her entire body is still humming. It's like when every instrument in an orchestra comes together at just the right moment in perfect unison and every note blends so seamlessly that it sounds like perfection.

She clutches at Quinn with one arm and holds her close, still trying to catch her breath.

Quinn's nose grazes Rachel's cheek. "You still with me?" she asks. She knows Rachel's in recovery mode, they've been doing this enough to make that very apparent. But this is probably the most spent she's ever seen Rachel, especially given that she still hasn't found it in herself to actually say anything.

In Quinn's experience with her, both now and in the past, that's a rarity.

The laugh bubbles up from deep within Rachel's chest even before she can fully open her eyes. When she does, her words finally come back into focus, as well. "I think me being with you is what caused this in the first place," she says, enjoying the attention that Quinn is still paying her. "That was intense and explosive, and just... give me a minute to recuperate."

That just encourages Quinn to feel even more accomplished. "I guess I figured out how to finally get you to stop talking," she teases. She strokes Rachel's hair and presses light kisses to her cheek. The conversation from the cab ride is still fresh in her mind and she's sure that it must have had some effect on what's happened here.

This isn't just sex between friends, it's a relationship between two people who love each other. She doesn't know if she's ever actually had that, not like this. That's not to say that Spencer and Rory didn't love her or that she didn't love them.

But her relationship with Spencer was a first for both of them and it almost felt purely academic, at times. Like they were testing the waters and finding out just how much they were into women in general, they just happened to be doing it together. They'd make out, have sex, then go right back to note cards and textbooks.

And Rory... Quinn had fallen hard for her professor well before they ever became an item, but even once they began seeing each other they were also the kind of item that couldn't be out and proud.

Then there was Joan. Joan was a complication. They were never in love and it obviously hadn't ended well.

Rachel, though. For years, Rachel's always made Quinn feel like she was worth something, like she actually deserves good things. Rachel's the kind of person who shows up to save a dog she's never met. She can make Quinn feel like she's the lone audience in a packed house. She can talk a mile a minute and Quinn won't hear a word she's saying, because she's busy just looking at Rachel, wondering just how they ended up together. Because Rachel is this incredible force of nature and Quinn's the one who always has to weather the storm. And maybe that's why they fit so well together.

Rachel hums dreamily. "You know, I can't help thinking about that first celibacy club meeting," she murmurs. "Back in high school. You were still _so_ uptight, and I got stuck with _Jacob_." She bites her lip. "Do you... remember what I said, during that meeting?"

"Uptight?" Quinn huffs, poking Rachel's side. "That was also forever ago." Not that she doesn't remember that particular meeting, because it stuck with her for a long time. "You made me furious with your little speech about how much girls want sex, because I had Finn very well trained and I was convinced you'd ruin everything."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "Yes, _uptight_. Don't even try to act like you weren't this beautiful porcelain work of art, untouchable and unaffected and completely above everything and everyone. And anyway, how do you feel about how much girls want sex _now_?" She's teasing right back, but there's also some truth here and she doesn't even try to keep the awe out of her voice that's been brought to the surface by remembering Quinn this way.

"That was how I wanted everyone to see me." Quinn doesn't bother getting into the fact that wasn't at all an accurate representation, because they've already talked about this in college and even if they do revisit it, right now isn't the time. Rachel's in her bed, talking about sex drives. "I don't know about girls, but I know there's an incredible woman lying next to me who just came so hard, I'm pretty sure she saw stars." She can't resist kissing Rachel's neck as her hand slides over taut abs. "She also isn't nearly naked enough for what I plan to do, next."

"Stars _are_ kind of my trademark," Rachel admits, but her heart isn't really in it because it's still pounding from the orgasm that Quinn just gave her. She frowns a tiny frown. "But it's your turn."

That draws a hearty chuckle out of Quinn. "Baby, you can do whatever you want with me. Just..." She kisses Rachel's ear, then her neck. "Take off," now she's pressing her lips to Rachel's as she mumbles, "that shirt."

"I thought you were going to take it off me," Rachel says, smiling at the pet name she's just been called. "You're kind of still on top of me."

"I would, but I don't want to risk ripping one of my favorite shirts." Quinn stretches her body out along the length of Rachel. "And I guess that means you want me to move." But she doesn't make any effort to do that, instead opting to nuzzle Rachel's neck.

"I don 't. But if you want me to take this off..." She's had enough sexual partners, and she's comfortable enough with her body to be entirely calm about this, but for some reason being completely naked in front of Quinn sends a thrill through Rachel. It's exciting. And sexy. And right now, Rachel wants to give Quinn anything she wants.

She shrugs out from beneath Quinn's body and maintains eye contact as she drags the t-shirt up over her head. Her hair falls around her shoulders and she drops the shirt over the side of the bed.

They've done plenty together and spent a lot of nights in Rachel's bed, by now. But this is the first time Quinn has seen Rachel like this.

After about three seconds she realizes her mouth is hanging open and she quickly closes it and bites her lip, instead. This is Rachel Berry, the woman who wants to be with her. And she's absolutely flawless.

Rachel glances down and then back up at Quinn, nervously. "Am I... what?"

"You're perfect," Quinn says.

Rachel laughs at that, a real, genuine outburst of a laugh. "You of all people know that I'm not, but that makes the way that you're looking at me right now mean so much."

Quinn manages to shake herself out of her stupor to say, "I love you." But then she's quick to follow it up with, "I still think you talk too much."

Rachel tilts her head, really looks at Quinn. The only way she could describe what she's feeling right now is 'full.' There are just so many things she wants to say, all at once, just so that Quinn will finally understand what she means to Rachel, but she settles on the one, biggest thing that she wants to say right now. "I love you too."

The rest will come.


End file.
